"You have?" exclaimed Andy, at once interested.

"Yes. Just came up from there yesterday. There hasn't been much doing, and won't be until the folks get their new house built. I was on their hands, though, and I'm staying around visiting relatives."

"How do you mean you was on their hands, Silas?" inquired Andy.

"Why, dad got talking with Mr. Collins after we'd got rid of the geese.

There's a good academy at Wade, and Mr. Collins was going into sheep in a big way. He offered me quite a good job and the chance to go to school in the winter, and I took it."

"But Mr. Collins' house burned down," said Andy.

"What, did you hear of that?" asked Silas in surprise.

"Yes," nodded Andy.

"Well, that put things in bad shape for the family, but they are coming back soon, and in the meantime I tend to the sheep in the pasture lot.

Lucky they had moved the old shed over there for storm shelter before the house and barns burned down."

"What shed?" asked Andy, with a quick start.

"The one that stood under the old elm tree. Don't you remember? Why, it was the shed you changed your clothes in."

"What!" shouted Andy, jumping to his feet in intense excitement; "that shed wasn't burned down?"

"Ain't I telling you? They moved it over to the pasture on skids two weeks before the fire."

"And it is there now?"

"Yes-but don't!"

Andy felt like making a rush at once at the great hopeful news Silas had told. The latter had grabbed his arm.

"Don't what?"

"Bolt. You're going to make a dash like you did this morning."

"No, Silas," said Andy, trying to be calm. "You can't imagine what great news you have brought me."

"I don't see how."

"We must go to the Collins farm at once, Silas, that old shed had a shelf up over the side window?"

"Remember that, do you? So do I."

"It had a lot of rubbish on it."

"I noticed that."

"Has it ever been disturbed?"

"Not that I know of. You see, Mr. Collins was arranging to have the old barracks patched up by a carpenter from Wade, when the fire came along."

"Silas," said Andy, "I threw my old clothes up on that shelf. If they are still there, I shall be able to find an old leather pocketbook in them that contains a paper upon which depends a fortune."

"You don't say so?" remarked Silas, in open-mouthed wonderment "What queer things you happen across!"

"A gentleman named Webb is very, very anxious to recover that pocketbook. I want you to go at once with me and see if the clothes are still there," and Andy briefly recited the story of the lost pocketbook and the details of his recent visit to the Collins farm.

He was consulting a railroad timetable to determine when the next train left Montrose, when Scipio rushed into the room.

"Andy, boy," he spoke quickly, "yo' told a boy to told me dat he was to be let come to see yo'?"

"What kind of a boy, Scipio?" inquired Andy.

Scipio described Dale Billings, and as he did so pa.s.sed some personal comments on his "'spicious" appearance.

"Yes, that's right, Scipio," said Andy.

"Den somefin's wrong," declared the perturbed cook. "When he come, I say Mistah Nelson very much preoccupied with another gemman, and he must wait. He sot down on dat chair just outside the door hyar."

"Go on, Scipio."

"I keep my eye on him. Dat boy," announced Scipio, "remind me of mean, low-down people, I meet afore in my 'sperience. Bimeby I watch him bend towards de door. He seemed listening. Den I saw him start and draw closer to de door. Den all of a sudden he make a rush out of de place. I run to de gate. Den anoder sneaking-looking boy meet him. Dey talk fast, berry much excited. Den dey make a run towards the railroad tracks as if dey was in a turrible hurry."

"Dale Billings and Gus Talbot!" exclaimed Andy, on fire with the intelligence imparted by his loyal, dusky friend. "Silas, they have got our secret. They are after the old leather pocketbook on the Collins farm. We must get there first!"

Andy directed Silas to wait where he was. Then he ran to the room where Mr. Parks was engaged with his friends. Appearing at the doorway he attracted the attention of the aeronaut and beckoned to him.

"What is it, Andy?" inquired Parks, coming outside. "You look excited."

"I am," admitted Andy, and then very briefly, but clearly, he explained his urgency.

"I say, you mustn't let any gra.s.s grow under your feet!" exclaimed Parks. "I reckon you've got it right-that sneaking fellow you was trying to help is off on the track of the old shed you tell about. There's the _Racing Star_-no, that won't do, but-I've got it, Andy. Wait here a minute."

John Parks flashed in among his friends and then flashed out again. Now he was accompanied by a well-dressed portly gentleman whom Andy had seen about the aviation grounds, and whom he knew to be one of the princ.i.p.als in getting up the race.

The aeronaut was busy talking fast and urgently to this person, who nodded to Andy and said:

"That's all right Do you know how to run an automobile?" to Andy.

"Why, that was his old business," explained Parks.

"I'll risk anybody getting ahead of you, then. My machine is just outside the camp."

"Come on, Silas," hailed Andy as they pa.s.sed on towards the gate.

Andy found a magnificent six-cylinder automobile just outside the camp.

He thanked its owner heartily for allowing its use, beckoned Silas to the rear seat, and waved adieu to his employer with the cheery words:

"I'll be back inside of two hours, Mr. Parks."