“You’ve got it right,” he decided, reluctantly. “They have been bound to get at that satchel all along. As soon as they did so they got away—crossed over to some other railroad line or went into hiding. I don’t see how we can trace them from this forlorn, out-of-the-way spot.”
“Are the contents of the satchel so very valuable, Professor Barrington?” inquired Frank.
“To men who I am assured are trying to steal my plan, immensely so,” was the reply. “You see, in the bag are all my private memoranda, lists of my connections, and the details of the very important lease I expect to close on playhouse quarters in Boston. If they get an inkling of that and obtain an option on the lease ahead of us, it takes away about half of the merit of our proposition.”
Frank realized that they were in a pretty bad predicament. To think of running down the thief or thieves with the start the latter had would be folly. Long since, undoubtedly, the knaves had rifled the satchel and possessed themselves of the secrets of the professor’s project.
The pair grew tired of sitting in the coach and strolled outside, but the ardor of the professor seemed dampened. He did not say much, but acted as though depressed. They walked up and down the level space beside the track, each busy with his own thoughts. Finally Frank touched the professor’s arm and directed his attention to a group gathered about a figure on a stump, who was apparently addressing them.
“Someone seems to be making a speech,” observed Frank. “I wonder what he is saying.”
“Yes, it looks that way,” assented Professor Barrington, after a casual glance at the individual Frank had indicated.
Both walked towards the center of the group of people. As they neared the spot Frank saw that a bronzed, intelligent-faced lad of about sixteen was the orator. He was dressed in blue jeans and had the appearance of a typical farm boy.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” he said, “this train will be delayed for several hours. Half a mile up the road is Home Farm, where I work. Mr. Dorsett—that’s my boss—sent me down here to tell you that there will be a lunch ready for all that want it from now up to dark.”
“What kind of a lunch, sonny?” asked a big man who seemed happy over finding himself with a whole skin after his shaking up on the train.