“Well, I’m going to look around first, anyway. We ought to get some idea of what’s been taken. I’m glad I locked the door into the living-rooms. Here’s the key just where I put it.”
He started around the store, looking into displaced boxes and cans and returning them to their places. Presently Harry got a piece of paper and began to put down a list of the things which they believed had been taken.
“There were more sides of bacon than this,” said Chub.
“There were seven,” said Harry. “I noticed yesterday. They’ve stolen four.”
“Put it down,” said Chub. “And they’ve made a big hole here in the canned things. Looks to me as though they’d taken about two dozen cans. You can see where they took peaches and green-gage plums. Let’s see; put down six of each, Harry, and about a dozen more assorted—tomatoes, beans, and other truck. And sardines, I guess; I don’t know how many; say three or four. That’s all they took here, I think.”
He worked around the store, examining, tidying, and replacing, Harry following anxiously with her paper and pencil. When they had finished they breathed easier. It seemed that the robbers had confined themselves entirely to bacon and canned goods, although, as Chub allowed, they might have helped themselves to other things in small quantities for all they knew. But at most the value of the things taken would foot up well under ten dollars.
“Don’t see why they didn’t take more,” mused Chub. “They had all the time they wanted, apparently.”
“Maybe they had to carry the things a long way,” Harry suggested. Chub shot a questioning glance at her.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Why, they might live a long way off,” Harry explained. “I don’t believe it was any one who lives here, do you?”