“Take a trolley ride,” advised the sheriff. “The trolley goes several miles out into the country. You can scout around there and come back when you get ready. I reckon you’ll have to stay here all night, anyhow, for, even if we do get Mr. Campbell’s car back he won’t hardly want to start off without having it looked over. Those robbers’ll drive it hard.”
This seemed good advice and the boys took it. Very likely Mr. Campbell would not want to start right out again, even if those in pursuit were lucky enough to overtake, or find the robbers where they might be hiding.
Promising to come back to Mrs. Wilson’s house, where they were invited to remain for the night, Rick and Chot started off on the suburban trolley line. To his howling regret Ruddy could not accompany the boys, but was tied up in a shed at the Wilson home. However the red setter was somewhat reconciled to his lot when Mrs. Wilson provided him with plenty of bones to gnaw. Dogs, especially of Ruddy’s size, were not allowed on trolley cars.
“Well, we certainly are running into a bunch of things,” remarked Chot to his chum as they went riding out through the pleasant country—for it was very pleasant, fresh and delightful after the rain.
“We sure are!” agreed Rick. “Are you glad you came?” He leaned over and punched Chot playfully in the ribs.
“Am I? Say, you couldn’t beat it! And think of what’s ahead of us, Rick!”
“What do you mean?” Rick turned and looked at his chum.
“That’s right. There’ll be lots to do there. I wish I knew just what he wants of us.”
“Maybe he just did it so we could have a good vacation.”
“No, it’s more than that,” Rick declared. “He wouldn’t start off the way he did unless there was something up—and something queer, too. I’d like to know what it is.”
“So would I,” agreed Chot. “I hope waiting around like this won’t spoil it.”
“I hope not,” murmured Rick. “Anyhow it’s a nice day.”
And it certainly was. The sun was warmly shining, rapidly drying up the mud puddles left by the recent storm. It was warm, but not hot and the boys thoroughly enjoyed the trolley ride through the green country which lay outside of Fayetville, a prosperous city in the midst of a rich farming community.
“How far do you boys want to go?” asked the conductor, as he came in to collect the fourth or fifth fare, the boys could not remember which, for the line was divided into zones, and the fare was taken up for each one.