In the living room the Cub leader offered the sergeant a chair and then excused himself.
“I have the money box hidden upstairs,” he said. “Wait and I’ll fetch it.”
Mr. Hatfield was gone a long while. During his absence, Dan and Brad told Sergeant Billings everything they knew about the money box. They even mentioned the mysterious face at the window, and gave the officer the license number of the car which they thought had followed Mr. Hatfield’s auto on the night of the storm.
“Your imagination probably tricked you on that one,” the sergeant said, noting down the number. “But I’ll check anyhow.”
“By the way, have you heard whether or not that ward of the court, Jack Phillips ever was caught?” Brad inquired.
“We’ve been looking for him,” the sergeant replied. “So far he’s eluded us. Jack is slippery, but we’ll get him back in time.”
“How old is he?” Dan asked curiously.
“About twelve—maybe a bit younger. He’s wise, though, in the ways of the world. We think he’s still around here unless he hitch-hiked to another town. He may be hiding out in the marsh or along the waterfront.”
“How does he manage to live?” Brad questioned.
“Oh, Jack’s an old hand at getting along. The boy has good stuff in him, but he’s made us a lot of trouble. He can’t stand confinement.”