“Then this Rodney could follow the directions, and if he had the map he could have gone at once to the right spot and dug up the treasure. Instead he digs holes all over the bramble patch. What’s the answer?
“He didn’t have the map—of course. Or, if he did, he didn’t know how to read it. The answer is that he didn’t have it and was making a blind hunt.
“Then, if he didn’t have the map who has it? Who is the other party most interested?”
There was but one answer to this. New suspicions were fast forming in the mind of Bob Dexter—new suspicions which might mean the solving of the Storm Mountain mystery.
CHAPTER XXI
NEW TACTICS
With a grinding and squeaking of the brakes, which was a reminder to Bob that he must get some new lining, the little car came to a stop near the silent and deserted railroad station in Cliffside. Deserted it was save for the presence of the lone agent in the ticket office, as evidenced by a gleam of light shining out into the cold and clammy mists of the night.
The milk train had just left, Bob knew. If he had hoped to intercept either the man with the hook or the man with the monkey he was disappointed, but Bob did not show any signs of this.
“Hello, Mr. Dawson,” he greeted the agent, who peered wonderingly out at him through the brass bars of his window.
“Well, bless my ticket stamp—if it isn’t Bob Dexter!” exclaimed the agent. “What in the world are you doing here at this hour? The milk train’s gone, Bob!”