Walter and Paul stood close beside Jack Kimball, as he turned over the package which had dropped from the automobile—Cora’s automobile, to be exact.
“What is it?” asked Walter.
“Just what I’m going to find out,” answered Jack. “Feels like a package of money, if I’m any judge.”
“Whew!” whistled Paul. “Counterfeiters, do you think?”
“I’m not so rash as to do any thinking after the queer things that have been happening,” retorted Jack. “I’m going to make sure before I do any guessing. Here goes!”
He cut the string of the packet. It was well wrapped in stout brown paper, and when Jack, sitting down on a wayside stone and resting the bundle on his knees, had folded back the covering, there was revealed to the boys bundles of tickets tied in little packets.
“What in the world is this?” asked Paul, picking up one of the little packages. “Tickets?”
“Railroad and theatrical,” added Walter, as he examined some more closely. “Say, this is a queer find!”
Jack whistled shrilly and then cried out:
“It fits in! It all fits in!”