“Nothing strange in it,” said the stout lad. “He may be a sort of tramp farmer, and they go all over, the same as the umbrella men, or the wash-boiler fixers. Come on!” They hurried forward, eager for what lay ahead of them, and if they had not been so eager they might have been aware of a figure which had cut across lots and was sneaking along behind them. And the figure was that of Pug Kennedy. “I wonder what their game is?” Pug muttered to himself. “If they are spying on me, it won’t be healthy for them. I’ll see what they’re up to, and maybe I can put a spoke in their wheel.” Reaching the house, Ned, Bob and Jerry saw, sitting out in front, evidently resting after his day’s labors, a bronzed farmer. He looked at the boys with interest, and inquired: “What’s the matter? Lost your way?” “No, we came to see you,” answered Jerry. “To see me? Well, I’m sure I’m glad to see any of Uncle Sam’s boys. Used to be one myself, but that’s long ago. Come in and set.” “No, we’re on business,” went on Jerry, who had been elected spokesman. “Have you seen a man around these parts with a very crooked nose?” The farmer started, and looked closely at the boys. “A crooked nose?” he repeated. “Yes,” interjected Bob, “a _very_ crooked nose. It’s spread all over one side of his face.” “Why, that must be Jim Waydell! At least that’s what he called himself when he came to work for me,” said the farmer, who had given his name as Thomas Martin to the boys, when they told him who they were. “Do you know him?” asked Jerry. “Well, not very much, no. He came along, asked for work, and, as I was short-handed, I gave it to him. Why do you ask?” “We’re not sure whether he’s the man we want to see or not,” answered Jerry, determined to be a bit cautious. “If we could have a look at him close by----” “He’s out in the barn now,” interrupted the farmer. “Go talk to him, if you like.” He waved his hand toward a ramshackle red building, and the three boys started toward it. As they entered they heard some one moving around, and then they caught sight of the very man they were looking for standing in the opened rear door. The last rays of the setting sun streamed full in on him from behind, and illuminated his face. His crooked nose was very much in evidence. “There he is!” exclaimed Bob. And as if the words were a warning the man, with a cry, gave a jump up into the haymow and disappeared from sight. “Come on!” cried Ned. “We’ll get him!” The three motor boys sprang to the pursuit, scrambling over the hay. It was a noiseless chase, for the hay deadened all sounds. They could not see the man, but it was evident that he was either going to hide, or was making toward some unseen door by which he could escape. “We’ll get him!” exclaimed Bob. “Come on!” There came a cry from Ned. “What’s the matter?” asked Jerry.