"He has a place where not even a Sherlock Holmes
would ever think of looking for him. Why, he could work, sleep
and eat there and never give a sign of his presence!"
"Did you get it?" called the owner of the handbag eagerly.
"Yes, ma'am," Dick replied.
"The bag wasn't open, was it?"
"No, ma'am."
"Let me have it quickly, please. Oh, I'm so thankful! Here is
my purse with all the money safe and sound. Wait, Master Prescott,
I must reward you suitably."
"No; I thank you," Dick replied, his color rising. "Your thanks
are enough. I've been taught that courtesy can't be repaid with
cash. You are very, very welcome to any service that I was able
to do you."
As Dick hurried into the Central Grammar "dressing room" he found
all five of his chums waiting to rub him down and help him dress.
"Here, give me that towel, and get out on other business in a
hurry!" begged Dick. "Dave! Tom! Amos Garwood is in the boathouse
below here, working at a bench. Get some of the men and rush
down there to make a capture. Greg, run and see to it that a
launch moves down to the river end of the boathouse in case Garwood
tries to get out that way when he hears the alarm!"
Prescott's chums darted out in a hurry. Dick half dried himself
in a few frenzied dabs with the towel.
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