The Scarecrow Mystery (Ted Wilford #8). Norvin Pallas

scavenger here when nobody else was around?”

      “Yes. He was looking around the car, and then we came and he went away. Then the policeman and the tow-truck men came. We saw them pull the car up the hill. That was when we were on our way home from the pond before supper.”

      “Well, Jerry, it’s possible that the package is lying somewhere around here but we can’t find it in the dark. How about you looking around in the morning to see if you can find it?”

      “Is there a reward?” Jerry demanded.

      “Reward? Oh, yes, I’m sure Mr. Waring would be glad to pay you a reward if you find it.”

      “Five dollars,” said Nelson grandly, and added in an undertone to Ted, “It’s not my money.”

      “Five dollars!” the boy exclaimed. “Sure, I’ll look for it. What do I do if I find it?”

      Ted took out his pencil and notebook. “Here’s my telephone number. It’s long distance, and you can call collect. I need it before nine o’clock.”

      Jerry took the paper excitedly and thrust it into his pocket as he ran off home.

      “We’re going to look up the scavenger, aren’t we?” asked Nelson. Ted nodded and they started off in the direction Jerry had pointed out earlier.

      “First time I ever heard one of those dump-pickers called a scavenger,” Nelson observed. “I suppose it’s the same thing as a beachcomber, except that he doesn’t have a beach.”

      “Sure, and they’ve all got a million dollars buried somewhere,” Ted remarked as they walked along. “He might not have the film, though. Maybe one of the boys picked it up.”

      “No, I don’t think so. Not that I think all kids are honest, but they usually take something they want. Something like this they’d probably turn over to the police.”

      “Maybe not, if they were just curious to take it home and see what was inside.”

      “I suppose that’s possible, but I don’t think they could have done it without Jerry seeing them. That kid doesn’t seem to miss much. And for five dollars he would surely have told us.”

      They reached the dump, which had a long dirt road leading up to it, and apparently was the main dump for villages for miles around. Most of the refuse had been plowed under and smoothed over with dirt on top, but they could see the uncovered part where recent dumping had taken place.

      “Gee, maybe you could get rich at a job like this,” Nelson speculated. “You always read stories about people accidentally throwing out their jewelry, and stuff like that. Maybe it’s guys like this who find it.”

      “And, naturally, turn it back like honest people.”

      “Sure, sure they do—not! Well, where’s that shack?”

      They looked around in every direction, before finally spotting it. It was not far off, but was obscured by the shadow of nearby trees. The shack itself was entirely dark.

      “Looks like nobody’s home,” Nelson decided.

      “Unless he’s sleeping. Well, let’s try it, anyway. That’s what we came for.”

      “Hope he doesn’t have a shotgun,” Nelson muttered. “If he really does have anything valuable, he’s likely to be touchy about it.”

      At the front door they knocked loudly, then waited a minute or two, but there was no response from inside. Once more they pounded on the door, but there was still no answer.

      “He couldn’t be asleep after that,” Nelson asserted. “He’s either hiding, or else he’s away. You know, this door isn’t fastened very well. I bet I could break the lock in with about one good push.”

      “No, you don’t.” Ted laid a restraining hand on his arm. “You ever hear about burglary?”

      “You mean breaking into this old shack would be burglary?” asked Nelson incredulously. “It’s not like breaking into a house in town.”

      “Why isn’t it? If somebody lives here, then it’s his home. The law doesn’t care how fine a home it is.”

      “I hate to go back without getting what we came for, though.”

      “We still have one chance,” Ted pointed out as they started back toward the car. “Jerry may find it in the morning.”