be necessary to determine whether or not the missing horse car was hidden in there. He wondered uneasily if the planking were secure. Suppose it should give way with him, plunging him into the river. He looked quickly around him. Not a person was in sight. This was both reassuring and disconcerting at the same time. He was glad none of the Callahanites were on guard. But there were also the unwelcome knowledge that there would be nobody to rescue him from a watery grave if anything happened. However, he was a good swimmer and this was no time to be backward.
He walked briskly into the shadows of the old ferry house and peered around. Then he cautiously made his way out through the almost complete blackness toward the river. He slid cautiously past several open spaces in the planking through which he could see the oily depths of the river menacingly below.
There was not a sign of the car anywhere.
Reaching the end of his inspection trip, he stood for a minute looking across the water, alive with fretty little tugs, barges and the customary river craft, to the opposite shore. He was baffled. With a sigh he turned slowly and started to walk back to the street. When he was once again in the sunlight, he again hesitated. What to do now? Evidently he had been too optimistic in interpreting the conversation of Joe and Puggy as a direct clew to the whereabouts of the precious car. Could it be that Puggy had, after all, recognized him and deliberately allowed him to listen to a fake steer? Surely
