Sam interposed in the interest of peace.
“Stow the joshing, fellows! We’ve reached an understanding, anyway. It’s settled that if anybody gets news of Orkney the club is to share it. I admit I don’t know where it can come from, but I’ll hope for it, all the same.”
Sam spoke guardedly enough, and with no suspicion that at that very moment Lon Gates lay in wait for him. And Lon had news, interesting certainly, and perhaps important.
CHAPTER XXI
LON PLAYS DETECTIVE
“See that, sonny?” Lon, having captured Sam at the gate and led him to the privacy of the barn, had taken a wrench from a shelf and was displaying the implement with much complacency. “’Member it? Ought to! It’s the wrench I told you the other day was lost, strayed or stolen.”
“Oh!” said Sam. “And so you found it?”
Lon chuckled. “Wal, I did sort o’ stumble on it, as you might say. Only there was more’n plain stumblin’ involved, seein’ as how I had to take it away from Peter Groche. And Peter don’t willingly give up what ain’t his—not so long as he has his health.”
“Then Peter’s turned up again!”
“He’s turned up—this afternoon. Guess he’s turned down again, though, before this. I’ll tell you how ’twas.”
“Wait a minute! If he had the wrench, he’d stolen it from us. If he stole it, there’s no doubt left that he played all the other tricks!”