They walked rapidly and before long reached Clearwater. In spite of the fact that the map made it appear to be quite a village, Clearwater proved to be merely a collection of some half dozen houses surrounding the junction of two roads. There was neither store nor hotel there. They asked information at the first house they came to. To find an officer, they were told, it would be necessary to go on to Millford, two miles beyond, although if they liked they could telephone there. Bob thanked the man and was conducted to the telephone. In a few minutes he had supplied the officers at Millford with all the information possible and had described the stolen property. He promised also to see the officers when he reached Millford. After that there was nothing to do but keep on for that town.
“We’ll find a telegraph office there,” said Bob, “and Dan can wire his father for some money. Then we’ll go to a hotel, tell them how we’re fixed, and get them to trust us until the money comes.”
As no one had a better one to offer, that plan was adopted. But it was weary work, that last two miles. They were all extremely hungry; indeed, Tom looked so famished that the others almost expected to see him expire before their eyes. Nelson became temporarily unbalanced, if Dan is to be believed, and muttered incoherent things about roast beef and mashed potatoes. It was three o’clock and after when they at last wandered into Millford. It was a tiny village, but there were stores there, a telegraph office, and a hotel. They came to the telegraph office first, and so they went in and Dan wrote his telegram.
“Money stolen. Please wire fifty dollars this office. All well. Dan.”
That was the message, and, as Bob couldn’t suggest any improvements, it was handed to the operator. The latter counted the words.
“Twenty-five cents,” he said.
“Send collect, please,” said Dan.
“What’s your address?”
“We haven’t any yet. We’re going to the hotel.”
“Hotel’s closed; closed first of the month.”