mured Mr. Rover, wiping off the spectacles he wore. "I—er—I really do not understand this, boys."
"Tell us what you've been doing, uncle, and then we'll tell what we know," said Dick.
"Um! Well, you know that some time ago I invested in ten thousand dollars worth of traction company bonds—got them through an agent in New York."
"Yes."
"Well, about a week ago I received a private letter from Mr. Jardell, of the traction company, stating that there was something wrong with the bonds. Some plates had been stolen and counterfeit bonds printed."
"Yes."
"I was asked to keep quiet about the matter, for if the facts became generally known the public would become frightened and the bonds would go down in the stock market. Mr. Jardell said he would meet me at Carwell and have the printer look at my bonds and find out if they were genuine or not."
"And what did you do then?" asked Dick, who began to smell a mouse, as the saying goes.
"I sent Mr. Jardell word I would meet him at the Carwell hotel to-day. We met, and he and his printer, a man named Grimes, said the bonds I possessed were counterfeits."
