Page:The Eight-Oared Victors.djvu/214

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THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS

Tom. "He isn't waving his hat, or anything like that."

Somehow his words brought a feeling of doubt to his chums, yet they could not tell why. Nearer came the launch. It drew up to the little dock the boys had made.

"Well?" queried Tom, nervously. "How did you make out?"

"Not at all," was the surprising reply.

"What! Didn't you get the things?" demanded Phil.

"No. The pawnbroker closed out his place of business last week, and the store is vacant."

For a moment no one spoke. Then Frank said:

"But look here. You know a pawnbroker has to be licensed. He can't go out of busness that way. He may move, but he has to let people know about it. And he can't dispose of their things inside of a year, either. That man had no right to do that."

"I don't know about his rights," said the jeweler, "but the fact remains that he has skipped out. He may have taken the cups and jewelry with him for all I know. The police say he was a sort of 'fence' through which stolen property was often disposed of. He's been arrested several times, but nothing could be proved against him."

"What did you do?" asked Sid.