“Some time last night.  A watchman at the collar factory says he seen an automobile stop around the corner near the Baptist Church about three o’clock.  Says it didn’t have no lights on it.  He didn’t think much about it, though, he says, and the next time he came round front he looked again and it was gone.  The papers had it last week where there was a job just like that done over to Maynard.  Two ginks in an automobile came along one night and lifted six or eight hundred dollars’ worth of stuff out of a gent’s furnishing shop.  If they don’t raise my pay at the Yards pretty quick I’m going to hire me an automobile, fellows.”

This aroused laughter, and an excited discussion of the burglary followed, during which Mr. Cannister quite forgot his orders on the stove and was only recalled to them by an odour of scorching eggs.  Two of the customers, having finished breakfast, made known their intention of visiting the scene of the crime, and went out.  At the first table inside the door two boys were regarding each other with round and inquiring eyes.

“Do you suppose—­” began Clint.  But Amy hissed him to silence.

“Wait till we hear more,” he cautioned.

But, although they listened with all ears, little more information was forthcoming, save that one Carey, Chief of the local police, was already busy.  “He’s telephoned all around,” said Mike, “and told them to look out for the automobile.  But, say, what chance has he got, eh?  You can’t stop every automobile that goes through and search it for jewelry!”

“What sort of jewelry did they get, Mike?” asked the proprietor.

“Rings and pins and things like that.”  He chuckled.  “It seems that whoever closed up last night left the box they keep their diamonds and stones that ain’t set in out of the safe.  They found it back of the counter this morning.  The robbers hadn’t ever seen it.  I guess they’d be good and mad if they knew!”

“Come on,” whispered Amy.  They settled their checks and left the restaurant, trying to disguise their eagerness.  After the door had closed behind them the man whom they had asked about the Brimfield trains inquired:  “Who are those boys, Can?”

“Don’t know.  They walked in here about six-thirty and wanted some breakfast.  Said they was nigh starved.  Looked it, too.  And mighty tired.  Nice-appearing young fellows.  Off on a lark, maybe, trampin’ around country.”

“Thought they were strangers here.  Got any more coffee, Can?”

* * * * *

“What do you think?” asked Amy eagerly as they walked up the street.

“I don’t know,” replied Clint doubtfully.  “What would they be doing there?”

“Burying the stuff they stole, of course!  That’s what they did, all right.  You see if it isn’t.  Maybe they’ll offer a reward and all we’ll have to do is go there and dig the things up and—­”

“I guess we’d better find the police station and tell what we know, reward or no reward,” answered Clint.  “And another thing we’d better do is telephone to school and tell them we aren’t dead.  We’re going to catch the mischief, anyway, I reckon, but we might as well save ourselves all we can.  Wonder where there’s a telephone.”