“They unloaded the boxes here, and then if police checked the boat, of course they’d find nothing!”
“Exactly! Then after the theft blew over and police weren’t watching the waterfront as closely, they moved the stuff out and disposed of it.”
“Brad, I was right after all! Jabowski is mixed up in this!”
“Maybe so, but we have no proof,” Brad brought him up short. “While we’re pretty certain in our own minds what happened, the evidence isn’t conclusive. All we have here is a few empty boxes. It doesn’t establish anyone’s guilt.”
“That’s true,” Dan admitted unwillingly. “If we went to the police with this, they’d probably give me the jolly ha-ha again.”
“Let’s see where this tunnel comes out,” Brad proposed.
Quitting the bricked room, the boys followed a dark passageway until they came to a solid oak door. It was locked.
“This is the end,” Brad whispered. “The door must enter the hotel. Jabowski may go back and forth, but he’d never admit it.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“We’ll tell Mr. Hatfield, of course. He may go to the police, but I doubt it. The Cubs already are in Dutch with Mr. Manheim. If we make any more accusations we can’t prove, he’ll have a right to be furious.”