“The only thing to do, I should say,” replied the clerk.
“Where is the nearest police station?”
“Two squares down, one square south.”
“Thank you,” said Dave, and darted away.
He hurried out of the hotel and up to the automobile he had recently left.
“Wait here,” he directed Hiram.
“Is it the boy you supposed?” asked Hiram.
“Yes. I can’t explain now. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Dave was not afraid to face the police on this occasion. He could now use the name of Mr. King. He planned to have the police get promptly on the trail of the boy thief.
Dave located the police station and ran up its steps. At a desk in a large room sat the office clerk, writing.