“Well, boys,” he said finally, “where do you belong?”

“Brimfield Academy,” replied Amy.

“Running away, are you?”

“No, sir, we’re trying to get back.  We went to Thacher yesterday with the football team and started over here in a fellow’s auto and it broke down about—­about four miles back and we got lost and slept in a sort of hut and got here this morning.”

“Where was the hut?” asked the official.

“Just off the road between here and Thacher.  About four miles, or maybe five.”

“Nearer six,” corrected Clint.  “We walked four miles, I guess, before we found that sign-post.”

The Chief questioned particularly regarding the automobile and its driver, finally taking up the telephone and inquiring of the two local garages if such a car had been brought in for repairs.  Both garages replied that they hadn’t seen the car and the Chief looked back at Amy speculatively.

“He must have gone back and found that nut,” said Amy, “and repaired it himself.”

“Maybe,” said the Chief.  “Who did you say the fellow drove the auto for?”

“I didn’t say.  I’ve forgotten the name.  Some liveryman in Thacher.”

“And he was coming here to get the hotel proprietor, eh?”

“That’s what he said.”

“And you didn’t see him again?”

“No, sir, not unless—­”

“Unless what?”

Amy glanced inquiringly at Clint and Clint nodded.

“Unless he was in the car that stopped at the hut in the night,” concluded Amy, “and I don’t believe he was.”

The Chief exchanged a quick look with the policeman and asked indifferently:  “Oh, there was a car stopped in the night, eh?  What for?  Who was in it?”

“We couldn’t see who was in it.  We were asleep in the hut and woke up with the light in our eyes.  Then we heard the car chugging on the road and two men got out and came toward the hut and sort of—­sort of walked around for about ten minutes and then went off again.”

“Walked around?  What were they walking around for?”

“I don’t know, sir, but—­”

“We think,” interrupted Clint, “that they were the men who robbed the jewelry store and that they were burying the things they had stolen.”

“You do, eh?  Who told you any jewelry store had been robbed?”

“We heard some men talking about it at the restaurant where we had breakfast.”

“Where was that?”

“About five blocks that way,” said Clint.

“Cannister was the name on the door,” explained Amy.

“If you thought the men in the automobile were burying something why didn’t you find out what it was after they had gone?”

“We didn’t think that until we got here and heard about the burglary.  We didn’t know what they were doing.  It was dark and we had no matches.  After they had gone we did sort of feel around there to see if we could find anything, but we couldn’t.”