“Yes! Yes! He must be told,” mumbled Hiram. “Now I want to sleep.”
He closed his eyes weakly, and the physician and others helped him into the auto. Bob had taken the big brass key, and as he and his chums went outside, followed by the police officers and a curious crowd, the young detective said to Jolly Bill:
“How long have you known Mr. Beegle?”
“Off and on all my life.”
“Do you know anything about this Rod Marbury and what sort of inheritance it was that Mr. Denby left?”
“I don’t know anything good about Rod Marbury,” was the answer. “As for Hiram’s treasure, well, I can tell a story about that if you want me to.”
“I wish you would,” said Bob, as he looked about for a way of getting up on the roof to drop the key down the chimney in the experiment. “It might help some in solving the mystery.”
Ned, who had gone on ahead a little way, around the side of the house where the chimney was built, suddenly uttered a cry of surprise.
“Look at these queer marks!” he called. He pointed to broad, flat impressions in the soft ground—impressions as though made by the foot of an elephant!
CHAPTER VII