"Do you know the streets pretty well?"
"I ought to—I drove an express wagon for four years."
"That looks as if we were up against it," said Dick, to his brothers.
"We'll go in a drug store and consult a city directory," answered Sam. "He may think he knows all the streets, but every city has a lot of places even the oldest inhabitant doesn't know."
They rode on a few blocks further and then, seeing a large drug store, alighted from the car and entered the place. A directory was handy, on a stand, and they asked for permission to consult it.
"Nothing like Carm here," said Tom, after they had looked at the alphabetical list of streets. "We are stumped, sure enough."
"Hello! I've got it—I think!" burst out Sam, so loudly that the attention of several persons in the store was attracted to him. "Here is a Varmolet street. Maybe Mrs. Stanhope only heard the name, and thought it was Carmolet. She wrote that down, and the end became rubbed off."
"You may be right, Sam," answered Dick. "Anyway, I guess your idea is worth looking into. I wonder where Varmolet street is?"
They made several inquiries, and at last learned that the street was a narrow and exceedingly
