"You don't mean to tell me S.N. would lock the small door and then come
away leaving the big one open, do you?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Well, what then?" his comrade retorted with greater incredulity. "If
both doors were closed and fastenings are all right now, could anybody
get the car out? They left the big door open--that's what they did."

"They never did that," said Nick; "look here, here's a fresh finger
print on the door--you can smell the oil on it. Here, wait till I light
another match. S.N. did what he always does, he opened the hood and
turned on the oil pet-cock and fussed around and then pulled the door
shut. Someone must have been inside this place before they got back."

Fido Norton was by this time on his knees outside the larger door. "Here
are footprints," said he; "two, three,--here's another one. Give me
another match."

"Those were made by our own fellows," said Nick, inspecting the ground,
half interested. "Can't you see they were made by scout shoes? Do you
think a boy scout stole the car? Here are some others, too, S.N.'s, and
Safety First's, I suppose."

"Why should they step outside the big door?" Norton asked. "These are
fresh footprints, all of them. After they got through, they'd go out
through the small door wouldn't they? This print, and this one, and this
one," he said, holding a match, "were made by scout shoes--_to-night_,
not an hour ago."

"All the fellows except us two are in camp," said Nick.