The old Frenchman was an engraver by trade and had worked for many years in New York, doing fine engraving for some leading jewelers. Then he had become crippled by an accident and had moved to Cresville for his health. In Cresville he had managed to pick up considerable work from the local jewelers, doing the engraving on rings, watches, and silver and gold ware for them. “I have much jewelry to engrave!” he said, with a sorrowful shake of his head. “I have a fine gold watch, and a silver tea set, and a magnificent diamond brooch, and other things. Now--where are they?” and he shrugged his shoulders despairingly. “Gee, that will be a big loss for somebody!” remarked Ned. Just before the fire broke out the old Frenchman had had a visitor. This, as he explained, was a “queer stick of a man with a very crooked nose.” “He got it in a fight in France many years ago,” said Mr. Cardon. “I had not seen him in a long time. How he found me and my money and the jewelry I do not know. But he threatened, and would have hurt me, had I not given him some. But I hid the most of it, and then the fire came. It came after Crooked Nose went out. Maybe he set the blaze. He was wicked enough. Oh, my money is lost--and that jewelry I was trusted with!” “It is if it was in there. But maybe that fellow you call Crooked Nose got it,” suggested Jerry. “You can have a look in the ruins after they cool.” There was nothing more the motor boys could do, and, learning that some of the neighbors would care for the old Frenchman, they got ready to go home. “Hadn’t we better go back and see what has become of Professor Snodgrass?” asked Bob, as they reached their automobile. “Well, it might be a good plan,” agreed Jerry. “Some of the bugs he is after may have carried him off,” suggested Ned, with a laugh. They started for the place where the runaway fire horses had been caught by Mr. Snodgrass. “This has been what you might call a ‘large’ evening,” remarked Jerry, as he guided the car. “Somewhat juicy,” added Ned. “Speaking of juicy reminds me of a broiled steak,” put in Bob. “What do you say to a little supper? I’m hungry.” “For once I agree with your gastronomic suggestion,” replied Jerry. “What say, Ned?” “I’m with you. Let’s include the professor if we can find him.” They reached the scene where they had last observed their friend, but he was not in sight. The horse lay there, having been shot to end its suffering, and then the boys went on into town. There they telephoned to their people that they were all right and would be home later, at the same time mentioning the fact that Professor Snodgrass was in town, and would probably call if he did not get on some bug-hunting chase that kept him out all night. As the boys entered a restaurant they almost collided with, or, rather, were fairly run into by, a man who seemed in great haste. He acted in a peculiar manner, turning his face aside as if to escape observation, and hurried on out.