Strange, isn't
it?"
"It is odd," agreed Roy. "But if people will keep their money in such
places, it is hardly surprising if they lose it. Did you hear any
details?"
"No, but no doubt we shall when we reach the farm-house," put in Jess;
"isn't it thrilling, though?"
"Not very thrilling for poor Galloway, who lost the money," said Peggy. "I
expect he didn't make it any too easily."
On their arrival at the Galloway farm-house, the young people found a
scene of great excitement. The sheriff, red-faced and important, was
examining several farm hands beneath one of the big elms, while in the
background stood the farmer and his wife, looking somewhat perplexed, as
well as worried.
As the Prescott auto drove up, old Mr. Harding, in his usual rusty black
suit, rose from his seat under the elm, and whispered something to the
sheriff. The blue-chinned, thick-necked Mortlake arose also. All three
turned and gazed curiously at the young occupants of the car, as it slowed
down.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Galloway," cried Peggy. "We were dreadfully
sorry to hear of your loss. Have you any clue yet?"
There was something curiously cold in the woman's voice, as she replied in
the negative. Her husband looked sullen and merely nodded. The sheriff
now rose and came toward the machine. He knew all the young folks and
greeted them briefly.
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