Stopping their machines alongside the highway, the three young people began a careful search of the dusty stretch. They went over every inch of the ground, particularly in the vicinity of the place where Ed had stopped to fix the broken mud guard. But there was no sign of the pocketbook. "Maybe it was dropped farther back," suggested Jack. "Well, we'll try there," assented Cora, and for ten minutes they walked up and down the road, some distance back from the place where Ed had alighted. "Now try farther on," was Walter's suggestion, and they did this. But all to no purpose. They were not rewarded by the welcome sight of a brown leather wallet, bulging with riches. "It's no use," said Jack. "Oh, let's try a little longer," begged Cora. "Well, if he dropped it before he got here, or after he left, we might as well make the entire trip to New City, and then reverse and go to Chelton," went on Jack. "And we can't look over every inch of all the distance." "We can drive along slowly," was Cora's idea. "The wallet is so large that it could easily be seen. It's too bad we haven't Sid and Ida along to help hunt for it. And the Robinson girls, and Mary. The more eyes, the better. I'll go on to New City, if you'll make a search on the road from here to Chelton, Jack." "Oh, I don't know as it would do any good." "It won't do any harm," said Walter. "That is, if Cora isn't too tired." "Oh, I should love to go. I can't get enough of my new car. Will you come, Walter?" "Of course." "Then, Jack, you go back to Chelton and keep a lookout on both sides of the road." "Hard to do that with one pair of eyes," was her brother's reply. "I wish I had some one to ride with me. But go ahead; I'll do the best I can." "It would be a good plan," assented Cora, "to have a person with you. If you could pick up some one--" "Or run across somebody," added Jack with a grin. "No, Jack, I'm serious. Don't joke. Even a stranger would do. Some man--" "Here comes a man now!" exclaimed Walter as an individual came in sight around a bend in the road. The man was not very well dressed. "I don't like his looks," said Jack in a low voice. "He seems like a tramp." "I don't blame you for not liking his looks," interrupted Walter. "That's Lem Gildy." "The man we saw talking to Sid when he ran his auto into the blacksmith shop?" asked Cora. Walter nodded. "Humph!" mused Jack. "I don't exactly fancy telling Lem Gildy about a pocketbook containing twenty thousand dollars lying alongside the road. He might not admit that he saw it if he happened to spy it while with me, and later on he might come back and pick it up." "Well, don't tell him what you're looking for," suggested Cora with ready wit. "Just say it's--er--a--er--" "Say it's a lady's pocketbook," put in Walter, "and then he'll know it's got everything in it but money. That's playing a safety with a vengeance."