“Say!  Did he say where he was stopping?” questioned Dick, eagerly, struck by a sudden idea.

“No, he did not.”

“Too bad!  I’d like to see him as soon as possible.”

“Why, what’s up now, Dick?” questioned Sam.

“I want to ask him if he knows anything about Jesse Pelter—­ where the fellow has gone to.”

“It isn’t likely.  I don’t think those two parted the best of friends.”

“Most likely not.  Still Crabtree may know where Pelter keeps himself.”

“I’ll tell you what you might do, Dick,” suggested Tom.  “You might send Crabtree a couple of letters, one addressed to the General Delivery here, and another simply addressed to New York City; then you’ll run two chances of striking him.”

“I’ll do that,” answered the older brother; and sent off the communications without delay.  In each of them he asked Josiah Crabtree to call at his offices as soon as possible.

“Do you think you can make him open up if he comes?” questioned Sam.

“I think so—­ that is if I make it worth his while.  If Crabtree is down on his luck he will most likely be willing to do anything for money.”

Two days went by, and the boys waited anxiously for some word from the detective in regard to the whereabouts of the Pelters.  But no word came in, and they were as downcast as ever.  In the meanwhile Dick, aided by the others, stirred around as best he could in an endeavor to take care of their finances.

“I’ve got the small things all taken care of,” Dick said to Tom and Sam, on the evening of the second day.  “But what I am going to do about that twenty thousand dollars we must pay the Sharon Valley Land Company, and that other claim Mr. Powell spoke about, I don’t know.  It looks to me as if we were going to get into a hole, unless I’m able to get some of our friends to help us out.”

The one bright spot on the horizon was the news received from home, which was to the effect that their father’s health was improving.  He had gone downstairs and walked around the garden, and also taken a short ride in the automobile.  Moreover, his mind seemed to be much brighter than it had been for a long while past.

On the following morning, when the three youths were at the offices discussing the situation, Bob Marsh came in.

“A man to see you,” announced the office boy.  “A man on crutches named Crabtree.”

“Show him in!” exclaimed Dick.  And then he added hastily to his brothers in a lower tone:  “Now let me engineer this, please.  I think I know how to handle him.”

“Go ahead, Dick,” responded Tom; and Sam nodded.

Josiah Crabtree hobbled in on his crutches, with his hat in his hand.  Evidently he was weak and nervous.  His thin face had lost much of its former shrewdness and cunning, and he looked quite downcast.

“Good morning, young gentlemen,” he said, in a somewhat cracked voice.  “You sent me a letter.  I just got it at the post-office.”