"What's the matter?" asked Gladys.

"There isn't any trunk here." cried Hinpoha. "It's gone!"

Consternation reigned in the Striped Beetle. The trunk, containing all
their extra clothes, had vanished from the rack at the back of the car!

"And my scarf was in it," said Hinpoha, ready to cry with distress,
"that mother sent me from Italy!"

"Don't worry, we'll get it again," said Gladys soothingly, although she
was as much dismayed herself. "Where did we have it last? We had it in
Ft. Wayne, I know, because we opened it there. It must have been taken
off in the service station where we had the carburetor adjusted. We'll
have to go back and see if it's there."

Accordingly they turned around and drove swiftly back to Ft. Wayne.
Inquiries at the service station at first brought out nothing, because
the proprietor declared that the trunk had not been touched--whoever
heard of taking off a trunk to adjust a carburetor? But a repairman
coming in just then, heard the talk about the trunk and said he was the
man who had made the adjustment on the car and he noticed that the
trunk rack seemed to be sagging and took off the trunk to fix it. He
had not put the trunk on again, because just then he had been called to
help install new gears in a car for a man who was in a great hurry and
had called one of the helpers to put on the trunk and fill the tank.
The helper was called and admitted that he had put a trunk on a car,
but it was not the Striped Beetle; it was a similar car owned by a man
who was driving to Indianapolis. He had thought the trunk belonged to
him.