"I'm afraid, sir, that I have already told some one," he blurted out miserably. "I didn't know it would do any harm and so I called up my brother and——"
"You young idiot!" burst out Mr. Crowninshield indignantly. "Why in thunder couldn't you keep still? We're in a nice mess now! If the story gets about and the police start to track down the thief it is good-by to Lola. Why did you have to run hot-footed to the telephone the first thing? Jove!"
"I'm very sorry, sir. I had no idea it would do any harm."
"But you have an idea of it now, haven't you?" inquired the master grimly.
"Yes. I see what you mean."
Mr. Crowninshield heaved an exasperated sigh.
"The game's up now, I guess," he muttered.
"But my brother lives off by himself in a very lonely place," the lad explained desperately. "Just he and another fellow have a house out on a point of land a long way off from everywhere. They couldn't tell anybody about Lola if they wanted to, especially if I call them right up and ask them not to."
"Where is it?"
"Seaver Bay."