Wagg, answering, and his voice was neither soft nor
pleasant. Then in milder tones, "You're wanted, Worth."

Billy stepped to the phone. "No, certainly not," Paul heard him say. And
then, "It can't be!" A pause, then further, "Oh, that's awful! We'll be
over there right off!"

With frightened, staring eyes Worth turned to Paul. "The Torpedo is
gone," he said.

Grievous anxiety and alarm filled the hearts of the two boys. Quickly
they drove the Six to Creek's garage. Chief Fobes and the youth who
assisted in the establishment both ran out as the car stopped at the
door.

It had been long since anyone had seen Mr. Fobes so wide awake, and so
keen to do his duty as he was now. He was frightened, too, lest his
prisoner's escape might cost him his position. And he was so perplexed
and so confused by his excitement that, as he mentioned suspiciously the
circumstance that Coster "got his saws and you fellows got your car,"
Worth really feared the officer would be for clapping him into jail
immediately.

The Torpedo was as completely missing as if it had never been. Creek's
boy had not the shadow of an idea concerning the machine. He knew only
that he fell asleep in the office and was awakened by someone who wanted
gasoline. Not until this customer was gone did he discover the absence
of the Torpedo. He at once telephoned to the hotel, thinking Worth or
Jones had taken the car out, perhaps.

"Don't let Torpedo leave Creek's garage for any purpose." This sentence
in Phil's telegram rang in Billy's ears. What did it all mean? He looked
at his watch. Ten-forty. Way and MacLester would arrive at eleven, he
thought. Then, "Have you telephoned Port Greeley and other places to be
on the lookout for Coster and the car?" The question was addressed to
Fobes, pacing excitedly about, accomplishing nothing.

No, he had had no time, the policeman answered. Coster's escape was not
discovered until long after nine. There had been scarcely a chance to
turn around before the theft of the Torpedo was also reported.

"You better be telephoning, perhaps," Worth suggested. "We will meet
that eleven o'clock train and, with the car to go in, maybe we can all
help you some."

* * * * *

Phil Way's eyes glistened and he smiled with a delight so inexpressible
he made no effort to put his thoughts into words. He had just read the
telegram from Billy and Paul, handed him at the Syracuse Automobile
clu