“You’ve remembered it so pat you must have heard of it before,” suggested Hiram, with a shrewd glance at his companion.
“That’s so,” answered Bruce. “I was there once. It was when the circus man, Wertz, was in hiding. I was traveling with him then. He and some other men at the show robbed an old farmer, and had to get out of the way. It was near Wayville that we stayed for a week, till things ‘blew over,’ as they called it. In fact, when you described that thicket and the gully, it came right back to me, as natural as life. It’s set me thinking, Hiram. I’ve got a theory, somehow, that the diamond thief got rid of his plunder after he left the Scout.”
“Shouldn’t wonder,” remarked Hiram rather indifferently, “but we’ll talk about that some other time. My mind is full of nothing but Dave and the Ariel just now. I’ve decided what I’m going to do, and you are to help me do it, if you will.”
“I’m glad, Hiram,” responded Bruce readily. “I’ll work my finger nails off to be of any use to you, or your partner.”
“I know that, Bruce,” said Hiram, “and I know that I can trust you, which is a great relief to me now, when I’m in such trouble. Bring that bench out of the hangar, will you?”
“What for, Hiram?” asked Bruce in some wonder.
“I want to have a long talk with you, and I want to sit here in the open while we’re at it, so we can watch out that no one hears us.”
Bruce brought out the bench, setting it near the Scout, and facing the grounds in such a way that they could see in three directions. Hiram’s face wore a serious, business-like look as he sat down beside his young friend.
“Maybe I’ve got it all wrong,” he began, “but I’ve tried to imagine just what level-headed Dave Dashaway would do if he were in my fix. Of course I haven’t got his brains or smartness, but I know one thing—he wouldn’t get rattled. So I’m trying not to fly all to pieces and do all kinds of rash things. There’s two men I want to see and get word to.”
“Who are they?” inquired the interested Bruce.