"I saw that tramp yesterday," said the constable, when he had
finished. "He was in the depot, talking to a tall, thin man. I
remember him well, for he and the other fellow were quarreling. I
hung around rather expecting a fight. But it didn't come."
"You haven't seen the thief since yesterday?"
"No."
"You remember the tall, thin man he was with?"
"Oh, sure, for he had a scar on his chin that looked like a knife
cut."
"Is he anywhere around?"
"I haven't seen him since. Let us take a walk around, and we can
ask Ricks the station master about this."
"We had better ask Mr. Ricks first," said Dick.
All hands, even to the grocery boy, hunted up the station master,
an elderly fellow who was well known for his unsociable
disposition.
"Don't know anything about any thief," he snapped, after hearing
the story. "I mind my own business."
"But he may have taken the train," pleaded Dick. It made his
heart sink to think that the watch, that precious memento from
his, father, might be gone forever.
"Well, if he did, you had better go after him -- or telegraph to
Middletown," was the short answer, and then the station master
turned away.
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