“Robbed, sir!” bawled the policeman.
“Nope—think they took me for somebody else. They searched me and looked over my letters, but they left my watch and money alone. Looking for papers of some kind, I guess.”
By the policeman’s request, Poodle and the Lieutenant described the men, as well as they could, at a police station, and strolled on toward Hike’s place. Poodle felt distinctly nervous, and this was not at all lessened when, on reaching Hike’s room, he found that youngster absent.
They waited for ten minutes, then made inquiries of the Lieutenant’s friend who was the boys’ host.
“Why,” said the owner of the house, “General Thorne sent a carriage for young Mr. Griffin, about an hour ago. Mr. Griffin told me so. And he got in and was driven off.”
The Lieutenant was satisfied with that, but Poodle was uneasy. He believed that Hike would have sent him word if he were going away for quite a time. Finally, he persuaded the Lieutenant to telephone.
General Thorne, on the ’phone, said that he had not seen Hike since that noon—when the three of them had lunched with him. “Why, no. Surely not,” said the General. He had not sent a carriage for Hike. He had not sent for him at all. He had no idea where he was.
Jack Adeler turned from the telephone to Poodle.
“And those men that held us up seemed to be after papers,” was all he said.
Half that night they spent in telephoning, and in searching about the shed where the Hustle had been taken. But even at dawn, they found no trace of where Hike was, or of where he had been since he left the house in the carriage that had not been sent by the General.