Replying with asthmatic difficulty to questions put to him by Starr, Mr. Harnden stated that he could not say with any certainty when the kegs had been taken, nor could he guess who had taken them.  He kept no horse or cow and had not been into the stable since he put the kegs there.  The stable was not locked.  He had always had full faith in the honesty of his fellow-man, said the optimist.

Mr. Starr allowed that he had always tried to feel that way, too, but stated that he had been having his feelings pretty severely wrenched since he had arrived in the town of Egypt.

Then he and Vaniman left the bank to go to the tavern.

Outside the door, a statue of patience, Squire Hexter was waiting.

“I didn’t use my pull as a director to get underfoot in there, Brother Starr.  No, just as soon as I heard that the boy, here, was all right I stepped out and coaxed out all the others I could prevail on.  What has been done about starting the general hue and cry about those robbers?”

Starr stammered when he said that he supposed that the local constable had notified the sheriff.

“I attended to that, myself!  Dorsey could think of only one thing at a time.  But I reckoned you had taken some steps to make the call more official.  The state police ought to be on the job.”

“I’ll attend to it.”  But Mr. Starr did not display particularly urgent zeal.

“Well, son, we’ll toddle home!  What say?”

Vaniman did not say.  He was choking.  Reaction and grief and anxiety were unnerving him.  Starr did the saying.  “The cashier and I have a lot of things to go over, Squire, and he plans to spend the night with me at the tavern.”

“I see!” returned the notary, amiably, showing no surprise.  He called a cheery “Good night!” when he left them at the tavern door.

Landlord Files gave them a room with two beds.  Without making any bones of the thing, Examiner Starr pushed his bed across the door and then turned in and snored with the abandon of one who had relieved himself of the responsibility of keeping vigil.

CHAPTER XVI

LOOKED AT SQUARELY

The bank examiner and the cashier were down early to breakfast.

Starr had slept well and was vigorously alert.  Vaniman was haggard and visibly worried.  Both of them were reticent.

Vaniman felt that he had nothing to say, as matters stood.

Starr was thinking, rather than talking.  He snapped up Files when the landlord meekly inquired whether there were any clews.  Files retreated in a panic.

“Vaniman,” said the examiner, when they pulled on their coats under the alligator’s gaping espionage, “this is going to be my busy day and I hope you feel like pitching into this thing with me, helping to your utmost.”

“You can depend on me, Mr. Starr.”

“I don’t intend to bother you with any questions at present except to ask about the routine business of the bank.  So you can have your mind free on that point.”