In a little village which he had glimpsed from the top of a hill Bud
went into the cluttered little general store and bought a few blocks of
slim, evil smelling matches and a couple of pounds of sliced bacon, a
loaf of stale bread, and two small cans of baked beans. He stuffed
them all into the pocket of his overcoat, and went out and hunted up a
long-distance telephone sign. It had not taken him more than an hour to
walk to the town, for he had only to follow a country road that branched
off that way for a couple of miles down a valley. There was a post
office and the general store and a couple of saloons and a blacksmith
shop that was thinking of turning into a garage but had gone no further
than to hang out a sign that gasoline was for sale there. It was all
very sordid and very lifeless and altogether discouraging in the drizzle
of late afternoon. Bud did not see half a dozen human beings on his way
to the telephone office, which he found was in the post office.
He called up San Francisco, and got the chief of police's office on the
wire, and told them where they would find the men who had robbed that
jewelry store of all its diamonds and some other unset jewels. Also he
mentioned the car that was stolen, and that was now stalled and waiting
for some kind soul to come and give it a tow.
He speedily had all the attention of the chief, and having thought
out in advance his answers to certain pertinent questions, he did not
stutter when they were asked. Yes, he had been hired to drive the ear
south, and he had overheard enough to make him suspicious on the way. He
knew that they had stolen the car. He was not absolutely sure that
they were the diamond thieves but it would be easy enough to find out,
because officers sent after them would naturally be mistaken for first
aid from some garage, and the cops could nab the men and look into that
grip they were so careful not to let out of their sight.
"Are you sure they won't get the car repaired and go on?" It was
perfectly natural that the chief should fear that very thing.
"No chance!" Bud chuckled into the 'phone. "Not a chance in the world,
chief. They'll be right there where I left 'em, unless some car comes
along and gives 'em a tow. And if that happens you'll be able to trace
'em." He started to hang up, and added another bit of advice. "Say,
chief, you better tell whoever gets the car, to empty the gas tank and
clean out the carburetor and vacuum feed--and she'll go, all right!
Adios."