The Grammar School Boys in Summer Athletics | Page 8

proves correct, and we find the missing man, the reward will be yours."
Dick turned to nod to his companions, as the tall man in black turned to lead the way. Their guide, after making sure that Prescott was at his side, walked rapidly down the street a few doors, halting before the street door of one of the office buildings.
"Come upstairs and tell Lawyer Ripley whatever you know," requested the tall man.
"I don't believe you'll find him in Sundays," replied Dick.
"We shall to-day," responded their guide confidently. "Mr. Ripley is helping us in this search."
This, then, looked like proof that the Garwood family was well-to-do, for Lawyer Ripley seldom worked for small fees.
Running ahead, the tall man threw open the door of the lawyer's office.
"Mr. Ripley," he called, "here are some boys who think they have seen Amos Garwood. Probably these youngsters are half dreaming, yet they may have some information of value."
"I know these boys," nodded the lawyer, looking up, "and they are dependable. They are good, bright boys. Prescott, come forward and tell me just what you know, or think you know."
"First of all, sir," urged Dick, "let me give the best description I can of the man we've seen."
"A good idea," nodded Mr. Ripley. "Go ahead."
Nor had young Prescott been engaged very long in his task of description before the tall man broke in excitedly:
"That's our man, beyond a question! Where did you see him? When?"
Dick hastily recounted the strange happenings at the supposedly untenanted cottage of the old water-works project.
"We must get there without delay," called the tall man to two other men who, so far, had kept in the background in the lawyer's office, but who had been deeply interested hearers. "One of you boys must go up there with us. How far is it from here?"
"Come through into my rear office," suggested Mr. Ripley, "and I can show you the spot from a window. Come along, Prescott, and tell me if I'm right. Hello! There seems to be some trouble up that way," added Mr. Ripley, as he reached one of the windows at the rear.
"There's a fire up there under the hill," cried Dick Prescott, as he pressed forward to another window. "Mr. Ripley, from the location of the smoke, I should say that the cottage itself is afire!"
"And I believe you're right," agreed the lawyer.
"Poor Amos!" groaned the tall man. "The poor fellow may have set fire to the place to destroy himself! Ripley, I can't wait here, inactive, another second. We must start! Can I get a cab here?"
"I think I can get an automobile for you inside of five minutes," replied the lawyer, hurriedly leading the way to the front office.
"Five minutes?" groaned the stranger. "Why not wait a year?"
"An automobile will save you much more than five minutes' time on the way," returned the lawyer, snatching up his desk telephone. "Central, give me 163-J in a hurry!"
A few minutes later the automobile was at the door. The tall stranger and two other men who had been in the lawyer's office were now on the sidewalk.
"Crowd on all the speed you can, my man," appealed the tall stranger. "If you get into any trouble with the authorities I'll pay all the fines you incur. This is a matter of life and death."
The speaker and his two men crowded into the car.
"You come, too," called the tall one to Dick.
"Is there room for one other boy?" asked Dick.
"Yes; we can squeeze him in."
"Want to come, Dave?" Dick inquired.
Darrin was by his chum's side in an instant.
"Let out the speed!" ordered the tall man. "Prescott will tell you where to go."
Four members of Dick & Co. had been worrying about their suppers, but now not one of them but would have waited indefinitely for a chance to go on that one especial auto trip.
"Greg, tell my folks where I've gone, and why," Dick shouted back.
Then---whizz! The automobile was down the street and around a corner before anyone could say "Jack Robinson!"

Chapter III
DICK MARCHES HIS NINE ON
The automobile party arrived just in time to see the blazing roof of the little cottage crash inward, sending up a shower of sparks against the sky of the dying day.
"I hope Amos wasn't inside, hurt and helpless!" gulped the tall stranger, leaping outside. "But why hasn't the fire department been out here?"
"The Gridley fire department doesn't respond outside of city limits, except on request and by permission of the mayor, sir," Prescott answered.
"I'll drive down and telephone any message for you," offered the chauffeur, who had left his ear behind and had traveled on foot up to the cottage.
"Firemen would be of little use now," replied the man in charge of the party. "We can do nothing until the blazing embers cool, which won't be for