Mr. Dodd said nothing. He realized the futility of objection. Nothing he might say would swerve the detectives from their determination to charge him and Jack with car stealing. On circumstantial evidence, they would be branded as thieves.
The state trooper turned to the Hardy boys and Chet, who had remained silent during this exchange of words.
"You boys said there was another car stolen?"
Frank nodded.
"A Cadillac sedan. It was stolen about half an hour ago, on the Shore Road."
"Describe it."
The trooper took out his notebook.
"We don't know the number. It was a blue sedan."
"Who did it belong to?"
"Isaac Fussy, the rich old fisherman."
"I've seen that car," said the trooper. "I'd recognize it anywhere. It didn't pass along this road. You've been following it?"
"We were right behind it until we had a spill a few miles back. That held us up for a while."
"I see. Well, the car has probably got away by a side road. I'll report it at headquarters, anyway."
He turned briskly away and went over to the Packard, getting into the front seat and taking
