“He gave his name as John Smith.  But I guess that was false, for he acted as if he didn’t want to be known.”

“What kind of a looking man was he?” asked Sam.

“Why, he was a tall, thin fellow with a very pointed chin, and bushy black hair and heavy black eyebrows.  When he spoke his voice had a regular rumble to it.”

At this description the Rover boys shook their heads.  They could think of nobody they had met who would fit the picture.

“When was that man here last?” asked Dick.

“A couple of days ago.  I didn’t like him for a cent, but as the prisoners haven’t been convicted of any crimes as yet I had to let ’em see their friends,” explained the jail keeper.

“What of Sobber, Larkspur and the others?” questioned Tom.

“All safe enough.  Nobody else is going to get out of here if I can help it,” and the keeper shook his head decidedly.

The boys remained at the jail for a while longer, and heard the particulars of how the fire had originated and of how the prisoners had gotten away.  Two of the men had kept together, but Crabtree had gone off by himself, and the last seen of him was when he was running for the river, which flowed some distance back of the jail.

“Let us go down to the river and take a look around,” suggested Dick, at last, and bidding the jailer good-bye, they hurried away.

Along the river bank they found several men and boys, all looking for Crabtree, some thinking there might be a reward offered for the capture of the criminal.  The Rovers joined in the hunt for the best part of an hour, but without success.

“It’s worse than looking for a pin in a haystack,” grumbled Tom, presently.  “We might as well give it up.”

“Let us walk around the town and see if we can learn anything,” suggested his big brother.

They walked down the main street of Plankville from end to end, questioning several people they knew.  At last they got word that a mysterious automobile had passed through the town about midnight of the day Josiah Crabtree had broken from jail.  But who had been in the touring car nobody could tell.

“He may have escaped in that,” declared Dick.

“And if he did, that man who came to see him at the jail had the car,” added Sam.

“Just what I think,” cried Tom.  “Well, if he got away in an auto there is no use of our looking for him here,” he added, with a sigh.

Nevertheless, the boys hung around Plankville for an hour longer.  Then they got aboard of the Dartaway, and with Tom at the wheel, and Dick with a pair of field glasses to his eyes, swung in several circles about the neighborhood.

“No use,” declared the oldest Rover boy, at last.  “It is getting late.  We might as well return to college.  We can do nothing here.”

“Haven’t we got time to go to Hope?” asked Sam, a bit wistfully.

“Well, I don’t know,” answered his big brother, just as wistfully.