But Leon was not being held on circumstantial evidence. He had been caught "with the goods on him." All that loot hidden under the old barn on his place was positive proof of his guilt. Still he held out, and declared himself the victim of some base plot calculated to ruin his reputation; which was rather a queer thing for Leon to say, since the only reputation he had in Scranton was for badness. Another thing was that he still declined to betray his pal, for everyone felt positive he had had company when foraging through the cases in Paul Kramer's establishment, taking such things as naturally appeal to a boy's heart--candy, cigarettes, revolvers and sporting goods. Chief Wambold suspected one boy from the start, after finding that the former chief offender in these lines could prove a positive alibi. This was the third of the bad lot, Tip Slavin. He had even gone to Tip's humble home and made a thorough search, high and low, but without the least success. If Tip were guilty he must have been smarter than his confederate, who had hidden his share of the plunder under the loose boards of the floor of his folks' barn. Not having any evidence beyond suspicion the officer did not dare arrest Tip, who continued to loaf about his customary corners and look impudently at every fellow who stared meaningly at him when passing. Hugh himself never once doubted the guilt of Tip Slavin; though he fancied the authorities might have a hard time catching him, unless the stubborn Leon at the last, finding himself on the way to the Reform School, confessed, and implicated his companion. He and Thad were talking about that very same thing on Thursday afternoon while on the way home from the park a little earlier than usual. "Where do you think that sly Tip could have hidden the stuff, Hugh?" Thad asked, continuing their conversation. "Oh! there would be plenty of places, and no one likely to ever run across it, on one condition," replied the other. "What might that be?" demanded Thad. "If only Tip could himself keep away from his cache," he was told. "That may be his undoing, after all. You know, when an ordinary thief has done something big, and is being looked for, the smart police always ask whether he has a wife or a sweetheart; because they know that sooner or later he is bound to communicate with such a person, and so a clue may be found to his hiding-place. Well, Tip's heart will be located where his treasure is. He'll soon get a _yearning_ to indulge in some of the candy and cigarettes he's got hidden away." "Then if Chief Wambold knew his duty," snapped Thad vigorously, "he'd keep tabs of Tip day and night, and shadow him wherever he went." "That would be his best move," agreed Hugh. "You ought to post the Chief on that same sort of clever job, Hugh."