Tom suddenly checked himself. The memory of the scene at the auction came back to him and he recalled what Andy Foger had said about "getting even."
"Which way did dat auto go?" resumed Eradicate.
"It came from down the road," answered Tom, not completing the sentence he had left unfinished. "They dragged the log up to the foot of the hill and left it. Then the auto went down this way."
It was comparatively easy, for a lad of such sharp observation as was Tom, to trace the movements of the vehicle.
"Den if it's down heah, maybe we cotch 'em," suggested the colored man.
The young inventor did not answer at once. He was hurrying along, his eyes on the tell-tale marks. He had proceeded some distance from the place where the log was when he uttered a cry. At the same moment he hurried from the road toward a thick clump of bushes that were in the ditch alongside of the highway. Reaching them, he parted the leaves and called:
"Here's the auto, Rad!"
The colored man ran up, his eyes wider open than ever. There, hidden amid the bushes, was a large touring car.
"Whose am dat?" asked Eradicate.
