Part 27 (1/2)

”Who is Jack Darrow?” questioned the landlord.

Matters were quickly explained.

”You had no right to let our baggage go,” said Leo severely.

”Can't we go after the fellow? I'll drive you to his house, if you know where it is.”

The landlord was very anxious to help them, realizing that he had ”put his foot into it.” The matter was talked over for several minutes, and it was decided to take a fast team of horses and drive back to Raymondsville and ascertain where Jack Darrow resided.

Five minutes later found Leo, Carl and Mr. Cook on the way. They made fast time, and soon drove up to the first of the line of stores in the next town.

”Jack Darrow is a worthless scamp,” said the storekeeper. ”He hasn't any regular home, but I fancy you can find him hanging around Budd's livery stable most any time.”

”We can if he's not in hiding,” said Carl in a low voice, as they drove off again.

The town being a small one it was easy to find the livery stable mentioned. Outside of the building sat two hostlers talking and smoking.

”Is Jack Darrow anywhere around?” questioned Mr. Cook.

”Yes; just went over to yonder stable,” called back one of the hostlers.

”Want to see him?”

”Yes.”

”I'll call him,” went on the hostler, thinking there might be a chance to earn a dime.

”Never mind,” put in Carl. ”Come on, Leo, we won't give him a chance to run away.”

”That's so; we won't,” returned Leo, and followed the young juggler to the ground.

The stable pointed out was but a short distance down a lane, back of which flowed a good-sized brook. Making their way rapidly to the building, which was old and much out of repair, they entered the open doorway.

A sound in the rear greeted them.

”There he goes!” yelled Carl. ”Stop, Jack Darrow!”

A muttered exclamation was the only response. They saw the good-for-nothing leave the barn and run for the brook.

”He's going to leg it!” burst out the young gymnast. ”Well, three can play at that game.”

Through the barn rushed Leo and Carl. Down by the brook the bushes grew to a height of several feet. Reaching the water's edge, nothing was to be seen of the man they were after.

”He's hiding somewhere, that's certain,” said Carl. ”You go up and I'll go down the bank.”

This advice was followed, and both covered a distance of fifty feet, when a faint splash was heard.

”He's crossing over!” cried out the young magician. ”This way, quick!”