"No, no, no! No banks for me!" cried the old man tremulously.

"Are you afraid to trust banks with your money?" demanded Dick
incredulously.

"No, no! It isn't that," protested the peddler confusedly. "The
banks are all right, and honest men run them. But-----"

Whatever was in his mind he checked himself. It was as though
he had been on the verge of uttering words that must not be spoken.

Dick Prescott found himself obliged to turn his eyes away. It
was altogether too pitiful, the look in old Reuben Hinman's shriveled
face. In his misery the small, stooped peddler looked still smaller
and more bent.

Tom soon came along, carrying a lantern and followed by Dave,
the latter yawning every step of the way.

"Now, which way are we going to look first?" Reade inquired.

"I've been thinking that over," Dick replied. "It seems to me
that the sanest course will be to start right at the scene of
the robbery. From there we may get a clue that we can follow
somewhere."

"Yes, that's as good a course as any," nodded Darrin, who had
received some of the particulars of the affair from Reade.