Chapter IV: Detective Bob Rack Has Something to Say

To the police officials of Syracuse, Phil and Dave first directed their steps in that city. The result was as usual. The department had a report that such-and-such a car was stolen. The officers would be pretty likely to discover it if the machine should appear in the town.

"But you better see the Automobile club. They are a big help in everything where autos are concerned," advised the police captain.

At a centrally located garage the boys stopped to repeat the same questions they had asked so many times before. The man in charge had heard the story of a car mysteriously disappearing from the South Fork road beyond Port Greeley, but that was all. "You can't do better than see the Automobile club," he added, however. "They are the ones to get you the right dope if there's any way to get it."

Although it was still too early to expect to find a secretary or other officer present, the boys decided to visit the club headquarters at once. A pleasant-faced man was reading a motor journal as they entered. To him they stated the purpose of their call.

"By George, that's interesting!" said the stranger thoughtfully. "Wait a minute!" Reaching for a desk phone, the pleasant-faced man was soon in touch with the person he desired. Briefly he told of the two young callers and their errand. "All right, that's the ticket!" he said, after some conversation over the wire, and hung up the receiver.

Asking the boys to accompany him, the agreeable stranger piloted them to an office in a large brick building where he introduced them to a gentleman who seemed hardly more than a boy in appearance, though his age was probably twenty-five. His name was Freeland Cape. ("A regular Cape of Good Hope to us," Phil said afterward.)

"Sit down," said Mr. Cape to the young strangers, as their escort left them. Thanking him, Phil and Dave accepted the proffered chairs. Without ado Mr. Cape was informed of the loss of the Six and the search thus far so unsuccessful.

"Queerest affair I ever heard of," was the young man's comment. "But tell me more of this Torpedo car. There was a Torpedo stolen in Harkville--(Phil and Dave exchanged glances)--an extraordinary case. And of course it is evident that the parties who, for some reason, abandoned the machine you found, grabbed your car directly afterward."

"It would seem so, but it is hardly the case," put in Phil quickly. "We have had that notion pretty well pounded out of us by different people, especially by Mr. Fobes, the policeman at Griffin. 'Two separate transactions,' were his words and he made it pretty plain. And of course we were, and are, more anxious to locate our own car than anything else. So all along, 'two separate transactions' we have had right in mind."

Young Mr. Cape scratched the crown of his head with one forefinger while he thought for a few seconds. "There never is a theory so exclusively inclusive but some other theory can be suggested," said he. "I may be wrong. Without knowing anything about the Torpedo you found, I'd say the two separate facts constitute a plausible supposition. But I _do_ know and _you_ know now, that the machine you found was probably the one stolen from Harkville. Who stole it? We do not know, but it is pretty plain that no one other than the original thieves had the car on that South Fork road, wherever they may have been with it since first it disappeared. Now that lands in the very vicinity of your car, at the time of your loss, the fellows who stole one automobile. And, having stolen one, no doubt they would just as lief take another and better one. The man who was seen with your basket may have been only a tramp. If your suitcases were left behind, the basket was thrown out, as well, at the same place or near by."

"Any way you put it, though," suggested MacLester, his brow puckered in thought, "we are left right in the middle of it all, again. Go one way, and we might find who owned the Torpedo. Go the other way--and we stand a better chance, I should think, of finding our own Six and the thieves. Whether they stole both cars, or simply ours, isn't a question in the case at all just yet."

"Yes," assented Mr. Cape, "but you must go back along the road, or wherever you may have to go, for the things you need to aid your search. You can't unsnarl a fish line, or anything else, without you have one free end with which to make a start."

Phil became nervous and uneasy as so much time was being consumed in discussion, interesting to him though the talk was. "Tell us just what _you'd_ do, Mr. Cape," he said earnestly.

"Advice is dangerous in a case like this. You may do as I would do and lose by it. Still, I'll venture a suggestion. You have gotten together, bit by bit, a lot of valuable facts. Right here in this building is a detective. He works for big people. Why not talk with him? If that Torpedo is the stolen Harkville machine you will win the help of one of the largest insurance companies in the job of capturing the thieves and at the same time, it is quite certain, recovering your own car."

"That's the plan!" exclaimed Phil eagerly.

"The very thing!" said Dave.

In a moment Mr. Cape had the telephone in his hand. Within five minutes the boys were in the office of Detective Robert Rack, or plain "Bob" Rack, as his name so often appears in the newspapers.

Mr. Rack was a ready listener to the whole story in detail as the boys told it. Quietly he referred to a card index a stenographer brought him. "I don't think this work need cost you young men a copper," said he. His voice was soft as a June zephyr. His neat business suit, calm, gray eyes and hair just tinged with gray, made him appear a great deal more like a successful salesman of some kind than a detective--than such ideas of detectives as the boys had hitherto had, at least.

"Not a copper cent," said Bob Rack, looking up from the card index. "And how would you like to be reimbursed for your trouble and expense?"

These were quite the most pleasant words that had fallen upon David's or Philip's ears for some time. In substance they said as much.

"I do not doubt the Torpedo you picked up is one we have long wanted to get trace of. The insurance people offer four hundred dollars for the recovery of the car. For the arrest and conviction of the thieves they will give five hundred dollars more. So then, if your party--four of you in all, are there?--wish simply to turn over the Torpedo you may do so. I'll tell you who is to be notified. There's one hundred dollars each for you. Or if you'd like my office to help you, both with the Torpedo and your own car, I'll make this proposition: to go myself, or send a good man with you on this case, and whatever the expenses and whatever the receipts may amount to they all shall be shared equally."

"Bob, you're a brick!" cried Mr. Cape, who had been an interested listener. Then he said good-bye, assuring the boys that their problem was in the best of hands. Heartily they thanked him.

"But there's some doubt about that car in Griffin being the one stolen at Harkville, isn't there?" reasoned Phil Way as the facts in hand were further discussed with Mr. Rack. "Why did that man Kull never answer our telegram?"

"Ah, that is a thing to remember! I asked myself the same question the moment you said the telegram was not answered, a little time ago," smiled the detective. "It would be a dreadful thing, I am sure, for a man to show no interest in the recovery of his stolen car, simply because he had received the price of it in insurance." The boys could see Mr. Rack meant something more than he said. They thought they knew the thought he entertained. But he went on at once, more seriously: "There is a great deal more to this matter than simply getting your machine for you or restoring the Torpedo, or I am badly mistaken."

Phil's eyes glistened. Davy sat very still and I am afraid his mouth was open without reason other than for his wonder and interest.

"So," concluded Mr. Robert Rack, very calmly and gently, as he had spoken all along, "suppose you leave the whole matter with me for the present. You better stay in town until to-night or maybe to-morrow, in case I should want you. Just now I wish you to do only one other thing, but that is very important. Telegraph or telephone your friends in Griffin to hold the Torpedo. Don't let it get out of their hands under any circumstances. If they ride out in it, they should not leave the car unattended anywhere for one moment."

As if treading on air, such was their elation, the two boys were leaving the office. "Oh, just a moment!" called Mr. Rack quietly. "Was the name 'Fielderson Brothers' on the cans of paint found in the car you picked up, do you remember?"

"Yes, but they are the manufacturers. Their paint can be bought anywhere," Phil replied.

"Yes," the detective answered, apparently the least bit amused.

With eager interest and pleasure Phil and Dave composed a telegram to Billy and Paul. After many efforts the following is the message they completed and sent:

"Don't let Torpedo leave Creek's garage for any purpose. Expect
to find Six soon. Must stay here until to-morrow. Wire care of
Auto club."

With the telegram safely dispatched, the boys found a pleasant, inexpensive hotel where they engaged a room. They went to a restaurant for dinner, then resolved to write some letters, first to the folks at home, assuring them of the hopeful outlook, then to Billy and Paul who would be keen to learn all that had taken place. A letter would reach them the following morning.

"I would rather have telephoned," said Phil. "They'll be wild for more news after getting our telegram, but we've spent so much money on long distance calls and railroad fare, to boot, the last two days!"

And in addition to Phil's remark I am able to state, in confidence, that the funds of the Auto Boys would soon need replenishing if many more railroad tickets must be bought or other considerable bills paid.

For it will be remembered there were four lusty appetites to be provided for, to say nothing of the extra expenses they were meeting. The possessors of two of the "vast voids" (one of Paul's names for the four appetites) found meal-time less pleasant now, however, than when Phil and Dave were with them. Indeed, Paul accused Worth of being absolutely "grumpy," whatever that may be, as they sat at breakfast in the American House on Tuesday morning.

This was the day Phil and Dave were in Pittsfield, it will be recalled. "And I'll bet we've done more than they have," said Paul, referring to the absent ones. He was thinking of the man in the town jail and of Billy's talk with that untractable person.

"I did think we had made quite a start," said Billy, droopingly. "But what's come of it? Nothing!"

"Cheer up, cheer up!" chirped Jones blithely. "We'll get busy again to-day. Hurry up, too! These pancakes are made out of old burlap. I know they are! I used to think it was perfectly grand to eat in hotels and so forth but, golly! wouldn't some fodder from home taste good right now? Honestly, I'm getting tired of burlap pancakes, puree of shavin' soap, pincushions a la hay, fried towels and all the other strange things you get under strange names in these places. I----"

But Billy said, "If we're going to get busy, let's do it," and promptly he led the way out to the office. "Better see Mr. Fobes, hadn't we?" he suggested.

Just why Worth wanted to see the police officer he possibly did not know, beyond the slight chance that the man in the lockup may have had something to say to him. Yet it did happen that while the two sought Chief Fobes, the latter was seeking them. They met in front of the bank.

"Our fellow in the cooler has been asking for you. He may let go of something yet if you go at him easy." These words, addressed particularly to Billy, took the pair to the jail quite bubbling with expectancy. They fully believed the prisoner knew something of their car--believed it regardless of Willie Creek's mild protest that the man was fooling them.

Again Chief Fobes escorted Worth through the dim corridor to the somewhat lighter basement cells. A window in the rear of the building was open, looking out upon a yard with trees and shrubbery. The prisoner was apparently enjoying the breeze that drifted in.

"Can't I talk to the kid a second, boss?"

The one behind the bars having spoken thus, though he still turned his face toward the corridor window, Chief Fobes motioned Billy forward while he stepped back a few paces.

"Say, bub, did ye see that guy? Did ye tell 'im?"

For a fraction of time Worth did not understand. Then recalling more clearly the chance remark about "Smith" at the hotel, he answered, "No."

"Didn't, eh? Why didn't ye?"

"You got mad yesterday and wouldn't talk sense or anything else. Why should I pay any more attention to you? Tell me what you know about the car you took that motor basket from and I'll do anything you ask that's reasonable."

"Ye was just lyin' to me about that man Smith, now wasn't ye?" the man returned in a low, earnest voice, ignoring Billy's request. And then he added as the boy hesitated, and swearing as he had done the previous day, "Aw, I was just a-kiddin' ye--just a-kiddin' ye to pass the time away."