“I hope so, Uncle Joel. Thanks,” and Bob ran out to his flivver, intending to hurry and pick up Ned and Harry and make a quick trip to Storm Mountain.
However, he found his chums already on hand. They had come over to get him, having prevailed on their fathers to let them off for the remainder of the day.
“Old Rip Van Winkle isn’t dead after all—that was a false report, Bob!” exclaimed Ned, who, with Harry, insisted on giving Hiram Beegle the name of Irving’s mythical character.
“So I heard.”
“But there’s been a big robbery,” said Harry.
“I heard that, too.”
“Say, is there anything you haven’t heard?” inquired Ned, admiringly.
“Well, that’s really all I do know,” admitted Bob. “I haven’t any particulars and it seems as much of a mystery as before. Let’s go!”
They found a curious throng gathered about the lonely cabin of the old man, with Chief Drayton fussing about trying to keep the crowd back.
“Don’t tramp all over the place!” he kept saying. “How am I goin’ to examine for footprints of the robber if you tramp and mush all over the place? Keep back!”