"
"In just what way?"
"Well, the fellow's a local politician and has a lot of 'pull'."
"He _must_ have, to get away with anything like this," was Jimsy's
indignant outburst.
"Well, don't let us waste time speculating," put in Peggy, in her brisk
manner; "the thing to do now is to get back the _Golden Butterfly_."
"You're right, Peg," came from both boys.
By this time they were out of the car, which they left standing at the
roadside while they examined the vicinity for tracks. But the grass in
the field was fairly long and no traces remained. Yet, inasmuch as the
tracks of the _Butterfly_ ended at the gap in the hedge, it was manifest
that that was the point at which it had been wheeled off the road.
"What next?" asked Jimsy, as it became certain that there was little use
in searching for a trail in the meadow.
"It's like looking for a needle in that proverbial haystack," struck
in Peggy.
"In my opinion we need the patience of Job and the years of old
Methuselah," opined Jimsy.
Roy alone was not discouraged.
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