“Did you hear the name of the owner?”

“Belongs to one of the crowd—­ man named Japson.  It’s an old country home that was in his family for years.  He don’t live there, but it’s furnished, I understand.”

The boys said no more, but as soon as the chauffeur was paid, they set off through the rain.  It was a disagreeable journey, and but little was said.  All wondered what would be best to do when they reached the place for which they were bound.

“I wish we had the sheriff and his posse with us, as we had when we rounded up those rascals at Plankville,” said Tom.

“Or if we only had John Slater’s shotgun,” added Sam.

“Never mind.  As I understand it, we are three to three,” said Dick.  “And we can arm ourselves with heavy sticks,” which they presently proceeded to do, tearing up some bushes for that purpose.

It was not long before they came in sight of a long, high hedge.  Back of it was a white house, surrounded by numerous old trees.  Over the trees showed the top of an old wind mill, used for pumping water from a driven well.

“Think we had better go right up to the door and knock?” asked Sam, as they halted at the edge of the hedge.

“No, I think we had better spy around a little at first,” answered his big brother.

All crawled through a gap in the hedge and, skulking from tree to tree, gradually neared the house.  Near one of the windows grew some bushes, and they crept along to these.  Then Dick looked through the window.

He saw Pelter and Japson seated at a table, going over some legal papers.  Nobody else was visible.

“Perhaps Crabtree took father to some other place, after the chauffeur left!” thought the youth, in dismay.

The window was closed, so the boys could not hear what was being said.  They consulted among themselves, and walked around the house, being careful to keep well under the windows, which were rather high.

“Here is a cellar door, let us try that,” said Tom, and he raised it up, and almost before they knew it, they were in the cellar under the building.

Above them they could hear footsteps and a murmur of voices.  Evidently Josiah Crabtree had joined the brokers.

“You stay here and I’ll investigate further,” said Dick, after a pause, during which he had espied a stairs leading upward to the rear of the house.

He mounted the stairs and came out into a wide kitchen.  No one was present, nor did any fire burn in the big stove.  From the kitchen a door led to a dining room, which, in turn, led to a sitting room.  In the last-named room were the three men.

“Do you think he’ll raise a row?” Pelter was asking.

“He can’t raise much of a row, with that towel bound over his mouth,” replied Josiah Crabtree.

“It’s lucky we had this place to come to,” put in Japson.  “I only hope they don’t get on our trail and follow us.”