"I don't think we'll try to hunt up the stoker," said Dave. "Most likely he's off on a run. We can try the storekeepers and then the others."
The ironmonger, a burly, red-faced man, had never heard of Jasniff, but the draper, while he did not know anybody of that name, said that one of the other Chesterfields, whose first name was Philip, had some relatives in the United States, including some folks who were now traveling either in England or Scotland.
"Thank you; we'll hunt him up," said Dave. "Where does he live?"
"Any cabman can tell you," was the answer. "Better ride out--it's a cold walk."
It was cold, with the snow covering the ground to the depth of two inches or more. The air was very raw, and a regular London fog was settling down over the land.
A cabman was readily found, and inside of a few minutes they were on their way to the Philip Chesterfield estate. From the driver they learned that this Chesterfield was an old man, rather peculiar in his ways, and that he entertained visitors but seldom.
"It would be queer for Nick Jasniff to visit such a man," remarked Dave. "But I don't want to let any chance of locating him slip by."
"Nick may be glad enough to get a roof over his head, if his money is gone," answered Roger.
The cab presently turned up a side road and approached the stone wall of a fair-sized estate, the mansion of which stood back in a patch of old trees. As they entered the gateway Dave saw a door open and a boy came out on a veranda.
"There he is!" he gasped. "There is Nick now!"
"You're right!" exclaimed the senator's son. "This is luck, and no mistake."
As the cab came closer Nick Jasniff gazed at it curiously, to see whom it might contain. Not to be recognized too quickly, Dave kept his face averted and cautioned his chum to do the same.
"Say! I say----" began the youth who had run away, when Dave leaped out and confronted him. "Whe--where did you come from?"
"From Oak Hall," answered Dave, coolly. "I fancy you didn't expect to see me so soon, Jasniff."
"Humph!" The runaway boy did not know what to say. "I--er---- Been following me up, I suppose?"
"You didn't expect me, did you?" put in Roger, with a grin.
"I didn't," growled Nick Jasniff. "Any more?" and he gazed anxiously into the cab, half expecting an officer of the law to put in an appearance.