"Because I wanted to know."
"Look here, son, have you got a line on that feller, or have you jest seen one of the notices?"
"What notices?"
"Why, I got a letter through the mails, from Denver, not more'n three days ago, saying that a crook named Denny Jerome, otherwise Denver Denny, otherwise James Trymore, had escaped from jail and was believed to be somewhere in this part of the country. How'd you hear about him?"
Matt was not taking the deputy sheriff into his confidence merely on that showing. Parrying his curiosity with some offhand remark, Matt pushed the letter into his pocket and went on with his examination of the car.
His mind was full of all sorts of surmises. Why should a letter addressed to a Denver crook be in Mr. Tomlinson's car? Matt began to think that the day's proceedings, taken all together, had a queer look. Perhaps his new job wasn't going to be as pleasant a one as he had imagined.
[CHAPTER VI.]
CONCERNING THE LETTER.
Carl came back in time to help Matt clean the dust and dirt off the Red Flier, to replenish the oil, fill the water-tank and strain a full supply of gasoline into the fuel-chamber. The car was then backed into an unused barn connected with the hotel, and the boys washed the dirt off their hands and faces and went in to supper.