“I don’t believe there’s a place nearer than Port Adams, and that’s about four miles from here. There’s a hotel there.”
“Gosh!” muttered Tom.
They thanked the operator again and went out. Then began a search for a boarding place that lasted for half an hour. They heard of one lady who had a room which she sometimes rented and they went to her posthaste. But the room was taken. At the end of the half hour they had seemingly exhausted the possibilities of Millford and were still without shelter.
“How about the police folks?” asked Tom.
“I’d forgotten all about them,” answered Bob. “Maybe they’ll let us sleep in the police station.”
But the police station proved to be only a couple of small rooms in the townhall. They told their story all over again, gave their home addresses, and departed with little hope of ever seeing their property again. For it was evident that the officer suspected them of trying to work a hoax on him, and his promises to look for the robber didn’t sound very enthusiastic. Out on the sidewalk they held a council of war. Bob was for keeping on to Port Adams where the hotel was, but none of the others agreed with him.
“I couldn’t walk four miles farther this afternoon if there was a million dollars in it,” asserted Dan.
And Nelson and Tom echoed the sentiment.
“Besides,” said Nelson, “maybe if we went there they wouldn’t take us at the hotel, and we wouldn’t be any better off.”