“Now we have him!” chuckled Old King Brady, as he turned his horse into the yard. The detectives threw the reins to a hostler. Then they dashed into the tavern. At a counter stood a man of plain, stern features. He was evidently the proprietor and stared at the invaders. Old King Brady leaned over the counter and said: “Where is the man who just came up in that cutter out there?” The proprietor looked blank. “He did not stop here,” he said. The detectives were staggered. “Are you sure of that?” “Yes.” “Do you know which way he went?” “Yes, he took the Concord road.” “Thank you!” The Bradys rushed out and leaped into their wagon. They drove on at full speed for Concord. They were soon outside the little town of Lexington. The road to Concord is a hilly and difficult highway, particularly in winter. Moreover, a blinding snow storm had commenced to block the roads. After going a few miles the detectives found that their horse was giving out. “On my word, Harry,” said Old King Brady, “I am afraid we are bound to get stuck.” “There is one consolation.” “What?” “If we are, Van is also.” Night was at hand and darkness began to settle down. The Bradys realized that it was necessary to get under cover somewhere. They were averse to going back to Lexington. Suddenly, after floundering a while in the snow, a dim light was seen in the distance. “There is a habitation of some kind,” said Old King Brady. “I think we had better strike for it.” “Very good,” declared Harry. “I will go ahead on foot.” Slowly the Bradys staggered on through the snow. After a while they passed through a gateway and drew up in the yard of a time-stained and weather-beaten old mansion of revolutionary style. Lights shone in the windows of the old house. Old King Brady shouted and two farm boys came out with lanterns. “Reckon hyars some more storm-bound people,” said one of the boys. “Say, mister, what kin we do fer ye?” “It looks as if we had got to trespass on you for the night,” said Old King Brady. “Wall, ye’re welcome! Put yer hoss right in the barn.” This was done. The big barn doors were with difficulty swung back. Then as the detectives entered they were given a thrilling start. Right in the center of the barn floor was the cutter which Van had driven from Boston. The horse was in a nearby stall. “By jove!” whispered Harry. “We’ve come up with the sharp rogue at last. He won’t slip us this time.” “Indeed he won’t!” declared Old King Brady. “I say, my man?” “Well, sir?” “Where is the man who came in with this team?” Both boys stared. “Eh?” stammered one. “That team? Why, nobody came in with it.” “What?” “That’s so, sir.” “Do you mean to say nobody drove in here with that team?” “Jest so, sir! It came in by itself an’ nobody in the sleigh. I don’t know nuthin’ more about it.” “And you don’t know where the driver of it is?” “No, sir.” The detectives were dumfounded.