Part 7 (1/2)

”Did he stay here over night with you?” Paul asked.

”Not as a rule, Jo didn't. You see, he's got an old mother, and they live in a little cottage about a mile away from here toward town. So Jo, he always made it a point to sleep there. I had no fault to find, because he was on hand bright and early every morning. But this will kill his old mother; however could he do it? Chances are, he fell in with some racing men when we had the county fair, and has got to gambling. But I'll be ruined if I don't get that money back again.”

”Could we help you in any way, Mr. Rollins? You know, Boy Scouts are always bound to be of a.s.sistance whenever they find a chance. We're on a great hike just now, and a little leg weary; but if we can stand by you further, please let us know. How about that, boys?” and Paul turned toward his chums as he spoke.

”That's the ticket, Paul!” replied Andy, promptly.

”Our sentiments, every time,” said Seth.

And the others gave vigorous nods, to indicate that they were all of the same mind; which unanimity of opinion must have been a great satisfaction to the leader.

”Then let's go right away, boys!” remarked the farmer, eagerly. ”P'raps now we might come up with Jo on the way, and ketch him with the goods on. If he'll only give me back my money I'll agree not to prosecute, on account of his poor old mother, if nothing else. But I'm as bad off as a beggar if I lose all that hard earned cash.”

Without saying anything to Mrs. Rollins or the neighbors, they hurried away, the boys keeping in a cl.u.s.ter around the farmer. If any of the scouts began to feel twinges in the muscles of their legs, already hard pushed, they valiantly fought against betraying the weakness. Besides, the excitement acted as a tonic upon them, and seemed to lend them additional powers of endurance, just as it does in foot races where the strain is terrific.

”It looks bad for Jo Davies, I should think, Paul,” Andy managed to say, as they pushed resolutely along.

”Well, he is the one fellow who may have known about the money,”

admitted the scout master, ”and if the temptation ever came to him, he could easily watch his employer, and learn where he hid the cash. How about that, Mr. Rollins?”

The farmer had heard what was being said, and immediately replied:

”If Jo was bent on robbery, p'raps he could have watched me some time, and seen where I hid that little tin box away in the attic. I used to go there once a week to add some money to the savings that I'd foolishly drawn out of bank long before I needed 'em, just to see how it felt to be rich for a little while.”

”When was the last time you went up there to look at it?” Paul asked.

”Let me see, when Web Sterry paid me for the heifer I sold him I put the money away; and that was just ten days back.”

”And it was all there then, you say?” questioned Paul.

”Surely,” replied the farmer.

”Was Jo working near the house then, can you remember, sir?”

Mr. Rollins appeared to reflect.

”When was the day we did some carpenter work on that extension--as sure as anything it was the day Webb paid me! Yes, I remember, now, that Jo came around from his work on the plane, and told me Webb was there.”

The farmer's excitement was increasing. Things, under the clever questioning of the young scoutmaster, seemed to be fitting in with each other, just as a carpenter dovetails the ends of a box together.

”It looks as though Jo might have spied on you when you went up to the attic to put that new money away with the rest. If he suspected that you were keeping a large sum in the house that's what he would most likely do when he knew you had just taken in some more cash. Now, I don't know Jo Davies, and I don't like to accuse him of such a terrible crime; but circ.u.mstantial evidence all points in his direction, Mr. Rollins.”

Paul measured his words. He never liked to think ill of any one; but really in this case it seemed as though there could be hardly any doubt at all; Jo Davies must be the guilty party.

”Are we gettin' near where Jo lives?” asked Jotham, trying to speak lightly, although there was a plain vein of anxiety in his voice; for when a fellow has covered nearly thirty miles since sun-up, every rod counts after that; and following each little rest the muscles seem to stiffen wonderfully.

”More'n two-thirds the way there,” replied the farmer. ”We'll see a light, like as not, when we get around this turn in the woods road.