“But that door is shut,” said Cora. “It shut after us.”
“Bombee can open it,” was his reply. “He knows the secret as well as I. Come. It opens easily.”
He led the way back along the passage through which Cora and her chums had lately come, first unlocking the door which he had closed after them. When they came to the cement obstruction, the helper pressed on a certain place, and it swung to one side. A little later the entire party was in the bungalow, to the great surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. The caretakers looked in astonishment at the old man and his assistant.
“Well, now let’s have some explanations,” suggested Walter.
“Did you get the auto?” asked Jack.
“Yes, and a whole lot of tickets and other stuff,” Paul said.
“My auto?” asked Cora.
“Yes, we have it back for you,” answered Walter. “And before we lose any more time we had better get the police after those three men.”
“I’ll go into town,” offered Mr. Floyd. “And about him?” he nodded to the man the counterfeiters had called Jason.
“Oh, I’ll give myself up,” the old man said. “Old Jason is tired of the game. Lock me up whenever you wish,” he seemed very tired and weary. “I won’t run away. I’ll stay with Bombee.”