“I say,” Peg repeated patiently, “that Bid Stricker’s tent is set up directly over the spot where we buried the bonds. Of course he doesn’t know that the bonds are there. And it is well for our purpose that he doesn’t.”
It was news to Scoop and me that a reward of two hundred dollars had been offered by the Ashton police department for information that would lead to the granddaughter’s arrest and to the subsequent recovery of the stolen bonds. Peg and the others had learned of the reward by listening, unseen, to the campers’ conversation.
“It’s still the crazy belief of the police,” the big one went on, “that Lizzie tried to murder her grandfather. And it was largely on her account that Red and I held back on the Strickers. For we didn’t want to run the chance of defeat and have them drag her off to jail in order to claim the reward.” [[192]]
Scoop got the granddaughter’s eyes.
“You needn’t worry,” he said quickly, “about going to jail. For your story of your uncle’s presence in the house at the time of the assault will clear you.”
“That’s what I told her,” Peg waggled. “She’s anxious, of course, to get back to town … she wants to be with her grandfather. And to that point I was hopeful that we all would be able to say good-by to the island before dusk. With the recovered bonds in our possession, it was planned that Red was to go to town with the girl in the boat while I headed for the lock to help you fellows. But, as I say, the Strickers were constantly in our way. And when it came eleven o’clock, and we were no nearer to getting the bonds than we had been at sundown, I told the others that we had best head for the lock. We owed you our help. And if we could free you, we would then have your help.”
Red laughed.
“We found out something else by listening in on the Strickers’ gab.”
“Well?” Scoop encouraged.
“Remember the night they came to the boat, intending to smash up our show truck?”