t away contemptuously.

"Not so fast, Bob," said Frank, stooping to pick up the garment.
"Let's see what's in the pockets. There may be a clue as to the man's
identity."

"That's right, Frank," said Mr. Temple. "Search it well. And, Bob, did
you notice the license number of the car? We can telephone and have it
intercepted."

"No," confessed Bob. "I was too busy to get that."

Frank interrupted the conversation with a shout of delight. "Look at
this," he cried, holding up a long strip of paper. "Return trip ticket
to Ransome, New Mexico. And a wallet with a big bunch of bills in it.
And here, what's this?" he added, holding up a thick, legal-looking
envelope. "Why, Mr. Hampton's name is written on it."

"Let me have that, Frank," said Mr. Temple, extending his hand. Frank
passed him the envelope. Mr. Temple noted the seal had been broken,
and opening it he pulled out a thick document down which he ran his
glance hurriedly. Then his face became grave.

"Boys," he said, "Mr. Hampton has many things of value in his home,
but this was the most valuable of all." Briefly he explained the paper
contained a list of names of "independents" in the oil field, together
with other information, which would give the Octopus a very great
advantage in the business war between the Oil Trust and the
"independents" if the document fell into its hands.

"This is pretty serious business, boys," Mr. Temple continued. "Bob,
you were very rash, but you did a good stroke of business that time.
Come," he added, "we'll go back to the house, and call up the police.
Maybe that car can be stopped and its occupants arrested."

As they turned through the woods, another thought occurred to Mr.
Temple, and he asked Frank what was the name of the man to whom the
railroad ticket had been issued.

"Jose Morales," read Frank. "This is the portion for the return trip
from New York. Evidently the man came from--why, Mr. Temple, he came
here from Ransome, New Mexico. That's the nearest station on the
railroad to the Hampton's camp."

"You're right, my boy," said Mr. Temple gravely. "There is some
mystery here."

Frank thwacked Bob gleefully on the back. "Say, Bob," he declared,
"old Jack isn't having all the fun after all, is he?"

CHAPTER IV

SHOTS AT THE STATION

"Boys," said Mr. Temple, when the Temple home, a short distance from
the Hampton place, was reached, "come into the library with me. I want
to have a serious talk with you.