Temple, when the Temple home, a short distance from
the Hampton place, was reached, "come into the library with me. I want
to have a serious talk with you."
Obediently, Bob and Frank filed into the room and sat down in deep
leather armchairs, while Mr. Temple sat back in a swinging chair by
his broad, flat-topped desk. Selecting a cigar from the humidor at his
elbow, he lighted it and puffed thoughtfully several moments before
addressing the chums.
"First of all," he said at the conclusion of this period of silence,
"I've decided that we will not notify the police of this affair."
"Why not, Dad?" demanded Bob in surprise.
"We want to keep this matter to ourselves until we can see more
clearly what it means," explained Mr. Temple. "We recovered what was
stolen, anyhow. But more than that, I begin to suspect there is
something more behind all this than mere business rivalry between the
independent oil operators and the Trust."
"What do you mean, Uncle George?" asked Frank, puzzled.
"Well, boys, I'll tell you," said Mr. Temple, speaking deliberately
and thoughtfully. "In the first place I know the men at the head of
the so-called Octopus. They are keen business men and quick to seize
every legitimate advantage.
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