Wherefore, Bud finally concluded that Foster was not above helping

himself to family property. On the whole, Bud did not greatly disapprove

of that; he was too actively resentful of his own mother-in-law. He was

not sure but he might have done something of the sort himself, if his

mother-in-law had possessed a six-thousand-dollar car. Still, such a

car generally means a good deal to the owner, and he did not wonder that

Foster was nervous about it.

But in the back of his mind there lurked a faint dissatisfaction with

this easy explanation. It occurred to him that if there was going to

be any trouble about the car, he might be involved beyond the point of

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comfort. After all, he did not know Foster, and he had no more reason

for believing Foster's story than he had for doubting. For all he knew,

it might not be a wife that Foster was so afraid of.

Bud was not stupid. He was merely concerned chiefly with his own

affairs--a common enough failing, surely. But now that he had thought

himself into a mental eddy where his own affairs offered no new impulse

toward emotion, he turned over and over in his mind the mysterious trip

he was taking. It had come to seem just a little too mysterious to suit

him, and when Bud Moore was not suited he was apt to do something about

it.

What he did in this case was to stop in Bakersfield at a garage that had

a combination drugstore and news-stand next door. He explained shortly

to his companions that he had to stop and buy a road map and that he

wouldn't be long, and crawled out into the rain. At the open doorway

of the garage he turned and looked at the car. No, it certainly did not

look in the least like the machine he had driven down to the Oakland

mole--except, of course, that it was big and of the same make. It might

have been empty, too, for all the sign it gave of being occupied. Foster

and Mert evidently had no intention whatever of showing themselves.

Bud went into the drugstore, remained there for five minutes perhaps,

and emerged with a morning paper which he rolled up and put into his

pocket. He had glanced through its feature news, and had read hastily

one front-page article that had nothing whatever to do with the war, but

told about the daring robbery of a jewelry store in San Francisco the

night before.

The safe, it seemed, had been opened almost in plain sight of the street

crowds, with the lights full on in the store. A clever arrangement of

two movable mirrors had served to shield the thief--or thieves. For no

longer than two or three minutes, it seemed, the lights had been off,

and it was thought that the raiders had used the interval of darkness to

move the mirrors into position. Which went far toward proving that the

crime had been carefully planned in advance. Furthermore, the article

stated with some assurance that trusted employees were involved.




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