in the crowd. "A crazy inventor is lost,
or he's loose, at any rate, and his old father is trying to find
him. There is a reward of twenty-five hundred dollars for the lucky
fellow who finds this inventor with the monkey wrenches in his
brain."

"What does the man look like?" asked Dick.

The tall man in black overheard the question and wheeled quickly.

"Amos Garwood is the missing man," said the tall man. "He is
forty-seven years of age, about five feet eight in height, slightly
stooped, very pallid and with cheeks slightly sunken. When last
seen Amos Garwood was rather poorly dressed. He has just escaped
from a sanitarium, and the only person who has seen him since
reports that he looked 'hunted' and anxious, and that his cheeks
were considerably sunken. Garwood has dark hair, slightly gray
at the temples. He probably weighs about-----"

"Pardon me, sir," Dick interposed. "What kind of beard does the
missing man wear?"

"Dick Prescott has found him," laughed one man in the crowd.

"Garwood has no beard at all, save for what there may be for three
or four days' lack of shaving," quickly replied the tall man.

"Where is the missing man, Dick?" laughed another man in the crowd.

"Yes; Dick has found him," called another.

"I rather think so," Dick nodded. "At least, I believe our crowd
has seen Garwood very lately."

Prescott's evident confidence aroused instant curiosity.

"Where?" demanded a dozen voices quickly.

"I wish you young men wouldn't answer, but just come with me,"
spoke the tall man quickly. "If your information proves correct,
and we find the missing man, the reward will be yours."

Dick turned to nod to his companions, as the tall man in black
turned to lead the way. Their guide, after making sure that Prescott
was at his side, walked rapidly down the street a few doors, halting
before the street door of one of the office buildings.

"Come upstairs and tell Lawyer Ripley whatever you know," requested
the tall man.

"I don't believe you'll find him in Sundays," replied Dick.

"We shall to-day," responded their guide confidently. "Mr. Ripley
is helping us in this search."

This, then, looked like proof that the Garwood family was well-to-do,
for Lawyer Ripley seldom worked for small fees.

Running ahead, the tall man threw open the door of the lawyer's
office.

"Mr. Ripley," he called, "here are some boys who think they have
seen Amos Garwood. Probably these youngsters are half dre