y were on the street again, as there was still
some of the holiday vacation left.

There was news, too, this morning. The Dodge house had been entered late
in the night, but the Dodge coachman, returning late, had caught sight
of a burglar near an open dining room window. In investigating more
closely the coachman had scared the burglar, who leaped from the window,
struck the coachman over the head, and then vanished. But the coachman's
description of his assailant tallied with the personal appearance of Mr.
Fits.

"Then the bold scoundrel is still operating in Gridley?" passed from
mouth to mouth. "What nerve!"

"The thief is likely to stay here for a night or two longer," the chief
of police warned business men along Main Street. "The truth appears to
be that the rascal whom the boys have named Mr. Fits is without funds to
get away. The loot that Dick & Co. found out at the camp was what the
scoundrel had expected to take away with him and sell. That stuff not
being in his possession, he must steal something else on which to raise
money before he can go far from here."

"Why doesn't the rascal try some other town, then, where he's not as
well known?" inquired Mr. Dodge.

"Because he has houses that he and his confederates, now locked up in
jail, had spotted for robbery," replied the police chief. "Burglars
don't usually enter a house until they've looked it well over and know
just about what they expect to find. I'll have all my men alert
to-night, and well to do people will do well to be on the lookout, too.
As soon as this 'Mr. Fits' gets loot enough he'll probably leave
Gridley."

That same forenoon Dick, Dave and Tom, acting as a self-appointed
committee, called on Lawyer Ripley at that gentleman's office. They
thanked the lawyer for the use of the camp, and mentioned the burning
down of the cook shack.

Hardly had they begun to speak when Fred Ripley sauntered into his
father's office. Silently Fred stepped over to a part of the office that
lay behind his father's back.

"How did the fire happen?" inquired the lawyer. "Some of you young men
just a bit frisky and careless?"

Fred, from behind his father, scowled at the three Grammar School boys.
It was plain enough that he dreaded having his father told the truth.
Nor did Dick and his chums want to tell if it could be avoided. They had
all of a schoolboy's aversion to carrying tales.

"No, sir; it wasn't carelessness on the part of any of our party,"