to drive back, they tramped along the country roads, making inquiries wherever they could.
But fate was against them. Late that afternoon, having covered many miles, they gave up, and made arrangements to be driven back to where they could get a trolley car to Randall.
They had called on many men who dealt in old furniture, and some who made a specialty of upholstering. Some were Hebrews, and some were not. But none had the chair they sought.
"I wonder if that Yankee was fooling us?" asked Tom.
"No, I guess he meant all right, but he couldn't tell us any better than he did," replied Frank.
"And we're out six bones for that warming pan," went on Tom, regretfully. "We'll have to see him again."
They did, but the dealer insisted that he had told them to the best of his ability. He offered to get the man's name and correct address the next time he saw him, but this was not likely to be soon.
In the meanwhile our friends were without their chair, and their spasmodic efforts to discover the mystery of the clocks had amounted to nothing.
"I tell you what it is," said Kindlings to them one day. "If you chaps don't perk up, and come to practice a little oftener, you'll find yourselves
