“Do you think this second car has been stolen?” demanded Fred abruptly, turning upon his friend as he spoke.
“Well, it’s gone, isn’t it?” said George.
“Yes, it’s gone,” admitted Fred, “but that doesn’t mean it has been stolen.”
“Well, tell me what has become of it then? Where is it? Show me the car.”
“I can’t do it,” said Fred. “I wish I could. But I don’t believe that car has been stolen.”
“What do you think?” demanded George, turning to the mechanic as he spoke.
“I haven’t heard of a car being stolen up here in a long time, and I don’t see how anybody could have taken that car away without being seen if he was trying to steal it.”
“That’s all true enough,” said George angrily. “I know all those things, but tell me if you can where my car is. I don’t see how anybody could have taken it away from here with the shoe being in the condition that it was. I never saw such a blowout in my life.”
“Perhaps we can track it,” suggested Grant.
“That’s right. That’s just what we can do,” said George eagerly. “Look here,” he added, as he pointed to a place near the road where the imprint of the mutilated tire plainly could be seen.