"A thief?" said Bob. "How do you know?"
"Seed him myself with my own two eyes," quavered Old Davey, a little
old man who was a pensioner of Mr. Hampton's. "He's a big dark
ugly-lookin' feller. I seed him a-sneakin' into the house through the
cellar door I left open to git out some garden tools."
"Then what did you do?" asked Frank.
"I run," said Old Davey, simply. "Leastways I tried to, but my legs
ain't what they used to be."
"Come on, Bob," said Frank, impulsively. "Let's go see."
"Not till we tell Dad, first," said Bob, as always the cooler.
Re-entering the sending room, Bob once more gained the attention of
his father, who still was in conversation with Mr. Hampton. He told
him what Old Davey had reported. Mr. Temple readjusted the headpiece
and swung about to the transmitter.
"Anything in your house a fellow could carry off in a pocket,
Hampton?" he said. "Because the boys tell me there is a thief in it
right now, and we're going up to try to catch him."
"I don't think so," said Mr. Hampton, and then added in a tone of
alarm: "Great guns, Temple, yes. There is. There's a duplicate list
among my papers that the Octopus would give anything to obtain
possession of. It's a list of the lessees out here in the oil fields
who have joined the independents.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32