"That's what struck the man as he fell on Market Street," interrupted Bobby with confidence. "I saw it hit him."
"Oh, my!" gasped Jess. "Do you suppose so?"
"Like enough," Chet agreed. "But it was too far away for Dan to see. And finally Purt drove off without returning to the house with the other fellow."
"The fellow Purt quarreled with for taking the car."
"Give it up," said Chet, shaking his head.
"And what became of the other man?" Laura queried.
"There were two in the car when it hit the man from Alaska," Jess declared.
"Gee!" ejaculated Bobby. "There's the nine-ten express west"
"Who----What do you mean, young one?" demanded Chet.
"'Young one' yourself!" snapped Clara Hargrew, immediately on her dignity. "There are no medals on you for age, Chet Belding."
"Or whiskers, either," laughed Laura, slyly eyeing her brother, for she was aware that he had a safety razor hidden away in his bureau drawer.
"Come, come!" said Jess, "What about this nine-ten express Bobby spoke of?"
"Why," said the younger girl, "I noticed Mr. Belding's clock--the big chronometer in the show window--as we came out of the store that Saturday evening. It was just nine o'clock when we stood there and saw Mr. Nemo of Nowhere run down by the car. Anybody driving that car could have made the railroad station just about in time for the ten minutes' past nine express--the Cannon Ball, don't they call it?"
"That is the train," admitted Laura. "But why----"
"Just wait a minute. Give me time," advised Bobby. "That car that did the damage was headed for the station."
"True," murmured Jess. "At least, it was going in that direction."
"And when Purt's car came back to the Grimes' house after those two fellows Dan Smith saw run away with it, there was only one person in the car. The second individual had been dropped."
"At the station!" exclaimed Chet, catching the idea. "That is why they stole Purt's car."
"I declare," Laura said. "Your idea sounds very reasonable, Bobby."
"Bobby is right there with the brainworks," said Chet, with admiration.
"Oh," said Bobby, "I'm not altogether 'non compos mend-us,' as the fellow said."
Chet was very serious, after all. "I tell you what," he blurted out, "if Purt won't help himself with the police, maybe we can get him out of the muss in spite of all."