a considerable distance in the rear of the towed machine, yet keeping that car plainly in view. In the light of subsequent developments, too, it is interesting to record the zealous watchfulness of the three exultant young gentlemen as they saw the crippled car hauled into Knight & Wilder's garage.

Lacking nothing in brazen audacity, Pickton alighted from the Roadster and, standing in the doorway of the automobile establishment, noted with evident relish that Mr. Wilder, the mechanical genius of the concern, looked very sober and puckered his lips up quite despairingly as he lifted the Thirty's bonnet and seemed carefully to inspect the motor. He spoke a few words to Phil and Paul, then some men came and pushed the Auto Boys' machine through the storage rooms into the repair shop.

An expressive and by no means unhappy smile shone on Pick's countenance—a really disagreeable smile, it was, in those hawk-like eyes of his,—as he climbed into Gaines' machine. Perth was driving,—Soapy rarely ever held the wheel himself—and as the car moved off, all three noticed the evidently disconsolate feelings of Phil and Paul as the latter two emerged from the garage and started homeward on foot.

"Guess maybe that don't simplify matters some!" chuckled Freddy Perth. "Instead of having to watch the whole bunch of 'em, all we need do now is keep our eyes on their shed at Way's to see when they get the machine home again."

"Watch the garage, too!" Gaines put in. "They'll run around to try out some as soon as they get fixed up. Hang it! Why didn't you push right up and see what the matter was, Pick?"

Young Mr. Pickton, although considerably irritated by this question, merely said: "Sure! We've got to watch the garage! Wilder wouldn't tell us anything, though, if we asked him! Knight, either. Remember when I inquired what was wrong with Crossley's limousine, the day it was run in there? 'Who wants to know?' Wilder says. 'Well, I do,' I told him. 'Guess it's the referendum,' he said with never even a grin. Humph! Knight's just about as accommodating as that, too. There's nothing to it but watch for the old boat when they get it to running again. Perth, you go down through the alley and peek into Way's shed about supper time."

Freddy said he would and added the suggestion that the Trio could spend the afternoon at the ball game; that, particularly since their machine was laid up, Way and his crowd would most likely be there. The proposal met with general approval.

A great deal relieved to feel that their vigilance might safely be relaxed for the present were the Chosen Ones as they journeyed to the ball grounds in good season. Sure enough, there were the Auto Boys,—Paul and Phil, at least, standing in line for tickets.

"MacLester and Worth are working some place. You can pretty near count on that. It's their steady system," whispered Pickton, as with Gaines and Perth he fell into line before the ticket window, then a minute later joined the rush through the gate.

And "There they go in!" whispered Paul Jones to Phil, his smile, always expansive, becoming almost alarmingly broad. "They saw us in line and never noticed us sidestep to the window," he added in triumphant manner.

"They think we went inside all right," Phil answered. "Trouble is we don't know whether they'll find out we didn't. It's the only drawback to this scheme. They'll be suspicious if they discover we aren't there. Only thing for it is quick action."

Already the two boys were walking rapidly down a side street. Turning the corner they reached the car line a few blocks from the ball park. From a neighborhood grocer's establishment Phil telephoned instructions to Billy Worth in waiting at Knight & Wilder's. Then, while Paul boarded the first city-bound car, he returned to the ball game.

Very careful was Mr. Philip Way to take note before going inside that Gaines' Roadster was still alongside the curb. Also careful was he to station himself where he could see all who came and went. In short, he was so occupied in these and similar matters concerning the whereabouts of that eminently select party of three, self styled as Chosen, that his thoughts were a long way from the baseball game now in progress. But then the game was one-sided and slow; maybe that was the reason Phil evinced so little interest.

With others of the great throng Way left the grounds when the very lame exhibition was over. A good many were growling about "a mighty poor article of ball," and "village hay tossers;" but Phil made no complaint. The game had served one purpose almost as well as the decisive battle of a pennant series could have done. He even laughed, though inwardly, as he overheard Fred Perth say, "Why, there's Way, now!"

As if quite by chance Phil was walking past the Roadster as its owner and his friends prepared to turn that lumbering vehicle homeward. Even when Gaines sang out, "Oh, I say! The walking's pretty good!" which comment was plainly meant for his ears, he made no answer beyond a deprecating wave of his hand. Not even did he look around—at that time, but he did assure himself of the direction the Trio took and that their manner was that of unsuspecting confidence.

Or perhaps Paul Jones' expression, as Phil told all about it afterward, fits the situation better. "There never was a better case of asleep at the switch," said Paul. And maybe he was right.

Was it merely a coincidence that the Trio in the Roadster twice passed Way's home before supper and again just afterward? Once Phil was on the porch. Once he was loitering near the low, green and yellow garage, now so empty and bare but for the workbench and tools of many kinds, and the desk in one corner.

Later, when the long June day was over, when the sun had set and the good-night twittering of the birds sounded unusually loud and clear as darkness gathered, Way busied himself inside the shed. The big front doors were wide open, to admit the air, no doubt. All three electric lamps in the small building were burning bright.

If Freddy Perth had only known it, in fact, he could have seen from the street that the automobile was not in the home garage at all and that Phil was. He might have saved himself the walk through the dusty alley, and still have made the same report to Gaines and Pickton, the substance of which was that the Thirty was still at Knight & Wilder's and that its owners were at their respective homes. At least Way was for he had seen him.

But if Perth or Pickton or Soapy Gaines, himself, or all three, for that matter, had chanced to board a certain limited suburban trolley car an hour later, the same evening, they might have been surprised to discover that although Phil had been at home he was not at home now. And, also, if appearances were not altogether deceptive, that he had no intention of being again at home in the immediate future. For an extra large suitcase was on the floor before him and a motor coat draped the back of his seat.

"Round trip?" said the conductor when Phil asked the fare to Littleton.

"No, one way," he answered.

"Forty cents," the conductor said. "Ain't bad for twenty-five miles. Cheaper'n automobile travel, at that."

"Oh, cheaper, possibly," said Phil Way, "but—"

CHAPTER IV

SAFELY AWAY

"They're going to go soon, if they go at all. Likely would have started to-day, as MacLester said, if their machine hadn't played out," said Tom Pickton, when on this Monday evening he and Perth were leaving Gaines at his home. "We'll watch 'em to-morrow, all right!" declared Mr. Pickton earnestly.

And now if Pick is as good as his word, if he and his fellow conspirators are really watching the Auto Boys, as another day comes, it is an interesting and busy scene that falls upon their gaze.

Phil Way is looking over every part of the Thirty's oiling system. "It's too bad we had to put the faithful old machine in the humiliating plight