and I could often see long, empty stretches back of me. I think that car must have picked us up in Echo.”
At the office a dozen odd jobs awaited Ted, and Nelson was also given a few errands which kept him hopping. Mr. Dobson and Miss Monroe had further questions about the accident, which Ted readily answered.
“You think he’ll be able to get to the hearing tomorrow morning?” asked the editor.
“He said he would, and the doctor seemed to think so, too.”
“How’d you like to cover the hearing for the paper, Ted?” inquired Mr. Dobson suddenly.
Ted was hardly surprised, but very much pleased. “Fine! But I thought you’d want to handle it yourself, Mr. Dobson.”
“I did plan on it, but I find a number of different things have come up, and it’ll be better for me to be here at the office where I can keep my finger on them. You needn’t report here in the morning, but if you should find a break around the middle of the morning, call in. I’d like to be posted on how things are going.”
Although Mr. Dobson undoubtedly was busy, Ted knew he must have had confidence in Ted’s judgment or else he would have arranged to get there himself. So, for Ted, the working day ended on a happy note, in spite of their troubles. Nelson, too, admitted he was satisfied with his day’s work.
“If Mr. Prentice had been alone, he might have been trapped there for hours before someone found him. I’m glad we could help him.”
Because of the pressure of their holiday schedule, Ted was obliged to take some work home from the office with him. He sat down to it soon after supper, but had not proceeded very far before the telephone rang.
“Ted, this is Mr. Waring, Mr. Prentice’s attorney.”
“Yes, Mr. Waring. Mr. Prentice told me you might call.”
“I’ve just had a long talk with Mr. Prentice by telephone, and I’ve had some bad news.”
“Is he worse?” asked Ted anxiously.
“Oh, no, he’s all right—physically. But that accident has put us in a bad hole, and he’s worried about it. Did he tell you that he was carrying a microfilm of union records?”
“Well, yes, I think he did mention it,” Ted recollected.
“Do you happen to know where he carried it?”
“No, he didn’t say.”
“It was in the door pocket—the door opposite the driver’s seat. Later he checked with the garage, and they couldn’t find it. He thinks it must have been thrown out of the car.”
“I thought the doors were jammed shut.”
“Apparently not. He thinks the right-hand door was sprung open as the car careened over, but that it finally landed on that side and jammed the door shut again. Either that, or it fell out somehow when the garage was righting the car preparatory to towing it in. However it happened, it’s gone, and we’re in a jam. Without that film there won’t be any point to the hearing tomorrow morning.”
“It seems to me that the accident gives you a legitimate excuse,” Ted offered. “Can’t you get a postponement?”
“There’ve been a couple of postponements already. Even if the court allows it, it will make a bad impression on the public. They might get the idea he’s afraid to testify. I’ve warned him against any more postponements.”
Ted was silent. It seemed to him that if you needed a postponement, then you needed it, whether it was good public relations or not. He waited, but the lawyer was silent—with the kind of silence which precedes the asking of a favor, Ted thought. He decided to inquire:
“Can’t the microfilm be replaced?”
“Not very easily, Ted. There was only the one copy. Of course we still have the union records, but getting them filmed over again will take days of work. You know, Ted, it’s possible that that film is still out there at the scene of the accident, lying on the ground. Do you think you could take a run out there and look for it?”
“Tonight? It wouldn’t be very easy to find it in the dark.”
“I know it’s a terrible imposition, Ted, but the matter is awfully important to us, and Mr. Prentice said he felt I could call on you for any tasks that might come up.”
“I guess I could,” Ted agreed slowly. “Are you coming, too?”
“I wish I could, Ted, but I don’t think I would be of much help in finding the film, and I’ve got several important things that have to be done before the hearing. You’re almost the only one I can ask, since you’re familiar with the accident scene. You can borrow my car if you want to.”
“Thanks, but I can ask the friend I was with this afternoon. If he can’t make it, I’ll stop by for your car. Are you at your office?”
“Yes, and I’ll be here till past midnight. Well, thanks a lot, Ted. Mr. Prentice and I both appreciate this very much. Call me when you get back, will you?”
“All right, I will. Good-by, Mr. Waring.”
“Good-by, Ted. Good luck.”
Nelson was agreeable to the trip, and provided them with some strong flashlights as well.
“But that place is beginning to haunt me,” he admitted as they started out. “I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to spend the rest of my life just going to and from Echo.”
At the scene of the accident, Nelson drew his car well off the road, and left the lights on. Though the wreck had been removed, they remembered the spot very distinctly, and explored the hillside as carefully as they could, following the course the car had taken, until they came to the place where it had stopped. The ground was frozen hard, but the trampling of the weeds showed where the garage men had been at work, and the course they had followed in towing out the car. But though the boys flashed their lights about in a wide circle, they were unable to find anything that resembled a roll of microfilm.
“The worst of it is,” Nelson decided, “that it might be lying right out in plain sight, and we could easily find it in the daytime. These flashlights are all right, but they aren’t the sun.”
“You looking for the wreck?” a voice hailed them. “A car with a hook on it came and towed it away.”
They turned their fights on the hill and saw a boy of about ten or eleven. He had a hockey stick flung over his shoulder, and ice skates dangled from it.
“How’s the ice?” asked Nelson, deciding to try a friendly approach.
“Cold,” said the boy. He came down the hill with no sign of timidity.
“We’re looking for a small package which may have been lost out of the car,” Ted explained.
“What did it look like?”
Ted made a vague motion with his hands. “I guess it was about this big—”
“Was it in a cardboard box?”
“Maybe it was, or maybe it fell out of the box.”
“Probably in a tin container,” Nelson spoke up. “Why, did you see a package?”
“No.”
“What’s your name?” Ted asked.
“Jerry Speck.”
“Do you live in Echo?”
“No, I live in that house over there.” They followed his nod, and could just see the roof of a house over the crest of the hill.
“Well, Jerry,” Ted went on, “we’re very anxious to find this package. Did you see anyone around who may have picked it up?”
“Nope. Just us guys who went skating, and the policeman,