“I think so myself,” added Walter.  “But if he had it when he was fixing your car, and he missed it directly after he left our crowd—­”

He hesitated a moment, then continued: 

“Well, maybe he thinks that some of us may have—­”

“Better not jump at conclusions,” cautioned Cora, and at this Walter alighted near the street that led to his home.

“I won’t,” he promised Cora with a laugh as she sent the car ahead.  She was anxious to reach home and learn the, details of Jack’s search, though she and Walter knew, from an inquiry they had made at the bank in New City, that it had not been successful.

That night nothing was so important a topic of conversation in Chelton as the loss of the twenty thousand dollars.  Speculation was rife, and opinion was equally divided on the question of whether it had been lost or stolen, or both, for that it might have been stolen after it was lost was possible.

Ed consulted some business friends, but they could give him little help.  He was advised to hire private detectives, and said he would do so, in case the police of New City or Chelton could do nothing.

It was two days after the loss of the money and bonds that Cora, with her inseparable friends, the Robinson twins, and Walter, whom she had picked up on the road, were out for a ride.  They took the turnpike, as it was the smoothest highway.

“We may meet Jack along here,” said Cora as she turned out to avoid a large rock.

“Yes?”—­asked Elizabeth, and she tried to keep down the eagerness in her voice.

“Yes; he’s gone over to see about a concert his mandolin club is going to give, and he said he might bring a couple of the members back with him to stay a few days.”

“College lads?” asked Bess with a laugh.

“Surely,” replied Cora; “and charming ones, too, I gathered from Jack’s talk.”

“Must be some of the Never Sleep members,” spoke Walter.

“Never Sleep members?” repeated Elizabeth.

“Yes; I belong.  We call ourselves that because we used to be up at all hours.  Some of the boys play in Jack’s mandolin club.”

“I hope we meet them!” exclaimed Bess frankly.  “I’m dying for some music.”

“Let me sing and save your life,” proposed Walter.

“With pleasure,” answered Bess, making a little gesture of surprise.  “But I didn’t know you sang.”

“Only to save life,” replied Waiter.  “But,” he added, “if I’m not mistaken that sounds like Jack’s car.”

“It is,” declared Cora, who was getting to be an expert on the puffing sounds of autos.  “There he is!” she exclaimed as Jack’s runabout came in sight.  “And it’s pretty well crowded, too.”

It was, for in the car, which would barely hold three, Jack had managed to squeeze four—­three lads besides himself.

“Hello, sis!” he called as he caught sight of Cora.  “You’re just in time.  Take one of these brutes out of here, will you?  My springs are breaking.”