his place at the wheel. The two detectives followed.
"You'll hear from us again in a day or so," said one gruffly to Mr. Dodd. "See that you stay here."
"I have nothing at all to fear. I didn't steal the car."
"You can tell that in court. Tell your boy to think up a better yarn about the fishing rod."
With this parting shot, the officers drove away.
Stunned by the misfortune that had befallen them, Mr. Dodd and Jack were silent. Frank Hardy was the first to speak.
"I'm sure it'll turn out all right, Jack. There's been a big mistake somewhere."
"Of course there's been a mistake," returned the boy heavily. "But it looks mighty bad for us."
"I've been living on this farm for more than thirty years," said Henry Dodd, "and there's never been any one could say anything against my good name or the name of any one in my family. I've no more idea how that automobile got here, than—" He shrugged his shoulders, and moved slowly away toward the house.
"We've told the truth," declared Jack. "We never saw the car before. We didn't know it
