"We can't go on like this,
Cora. That left tire will have to be pumped up."
"And you've got good muscles to do it, too, Walter," urged Diddick,
smiling mischievously.
"We'll all help," volunteered Parks. "Come on!"
Diddick, Walter and Parks alighted. Walter stepped to the tool-box
to get out the pump and the lifting-jack. As he was about to take
them out he started back excitedly.
"Hurt yourself?" asked Cora, who was looking over the side of the
car.
Walter shook his head. His face was strangely white as he spoke in
a husky voice:
"The wallet! Ed Foster's wallet in the tool box--here--see!"
He held the pocketbook up to view.
"Where--where did you get it?" gasped Cora.
"In--in--your--tool--box!"
"What?"
The girl's voice was shrill, and there was a tremor in her tones.
Cora fairly leaped out beside him. She was staring at the brown
leather wallet the wallet that had contained the twenty thousand
dollars.
"How on earth--" she began.
She reached out her hand for the pocketbook. Walter gave it to her.
She raised up the flap, and uttered but a single word:
"Empty!"
The limp wallet fell from her hand to the ground. Cora's face
turned strangely white, and she began swaying, as does a tree that a
woodsman has nearly cut through.
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