"If he wasn't lame, he was a good actor," declared Innis. "That's it--he really was lame!" exclaimed Dick, quickly. "It wasn't put on at all, and I knew then that he was permanently disabled, and that it wasn't from the jar of suddenly leaping out of a car." "How could you tell that?" asked Paul. "By his shoes. You know how a shoe will get full of wrinkles if it's walked in in a certain way for any length of time. A lame person's shoe will get wrinkles in it that no other person's would. It was that way with this man. When he limped I could see certain wrinkles on the side of his shoe, and the wrinkles had been there for some time, showing he had been lame longer than since to-day." "Good boy!" cried Paul. "Then I was sure I had him," resumed Dick, "and it was only a question of time when he would make a break." "And he was playing all that time to get possession of those papers?" asked Innis. "That's what," answered Dick, "only he got the wrong bunch. I guess I'll have to charge my road maps up to Uncle Ezra if this keeps up." "But how did he know you were coming along the road where he disabled his car?" asked Innis. "And how could he figure out that you'd give him a lift?" "I don't know," replied the young man, frankly. "But it might be easy enough to lay such a trap for us. You see my uncle knows our route almost as well as we do ourselves. He could tip off some unscrupulous man, and he could be on the watch for us. Our arrival in Buffalo would soon become known, for, as I've said before, this car is rather conspicuous. Then it was easy enough to figure which road we'd leave by. All that was necessary was to be in waiting, and the little trick of the disabled car did the rest." "Only you were too sharp for him," put in Paul. "I was lucky," was the way Dick put it. "You see he wanted to get us away from the car, and that talk about the view and the spring did it. Then he pretended he was tired out, and, as soon as we were out of sight, he hiked back to my auto, and rummaged it." "I hope he didn't take any of our grub!" exclaimed Innis. "I have what the English call a 'rare old twist on,' I'm hungry, in other words." "It was papers--not food--he was after," said Dick. "But when you knew his game, and suspected what he was up to, weren't you afraid to let him go to your car, and you remain at the spring?" asked Paul. "No, for I felt sure he wouldn't do any damage. I knew he couldn't start it, and I had the documents. Those were the only two things to worry about." "I see!" exclaimed Innis. "Well, what's to be done next? I mean after eating," he added quickly. "We'll have to think up a plan," remarked Dick. "I guess, too, we might change our route a bit. If Uncle Ezra's men are going to make trouble for us, let's put as many hurdles in their way as we can." "That's what I say," agreed Paul.