Holding up his wiry, claw-like hands, the old peddler worked the fingers convulsively. "Then how do you know you were robbed, Mr. Hinman?" Dick insisted. "Because the money is gone," replied the old man simply. "You searched the rags, and the surrounding parts of your wagon?" Reade asked. "Young man, you may be sure that I did." "And where were you going when we stopped you?" "For help." "Whose help?" Dick inquired. "I don't know," replied the old man blankly. "Perhaps to a lawyer." "Lawyers don't recover stolen property," rejoined Reade. "Perhaps not," assented the peddler. "The people whom you should see are the local officers," Dick assured the old man. "Probably they couldn't recover your money, though, since you have no idea who robbed you." Reuben Hinman groaned helplessly. It was plain to the two high school boys that the peddler had started out, thus, in the middle of the night simply because his misery was too great to permit of inaction on his part. "I wish we could help you," Prescott went on earnestly. "Why can't you?" eagerly demanded the peddler, as one who clutches at the frailest straw. "Call Dave, Tom. Try not to wake the others," murmured Dick. Then, while Reade was gone, Prescott asked: "Mr. Hinman, why on earth didn't you keep your money in a bank, and then pay by check?" "No, no, no! No banks for me!" cried the old man tremulously. "Are you afraid to trust banks with your money?" demanded Dick incredulously. "No, no! It isn't that," protested the peddler confusedly. "The banks are all right, and honest men run them. But-----" Whatever was in his mind he checked himself. It was as though he had been on the verge of uttering words that must not be spoken. Dick Prescott found himself obliged to turn his eyes away. It was altogether too pitiful, the look in old Reuben Hinman's shriveled face. In his misery the small, stooped peddler looked still smaller and more bent. Tom soon came along, carrying a lantern and followed by Dave, the latter yawning every step of the way. "Now, which way are we going to look first?" Reade inquired. "I've been thinking that over," Dick replied. "It seems to me that the sanest course will be to start right at the scene of the robbery. From there we may get a clue that we can follow somewhere." "Yes, that's as good a course as any," nodded Darrin, who had received some of the particulars of the affair from Reade. So the three high school boys started off down the road together, old Reuben Hinman trudging tirelessly along with them, acting like a man in a trance. At last they came to the old, red wagon. The tethered horse, disturbed, rose to its feet. "Now, the rest of you keep away," requested young Prescott, "until I've had time to look all around the wagon with the lantern. I want to see if I can discover any footprints that will help."