AS the others crowded around him, Bob held up a small business card. It had apparently been dropped near the museum’s truck, perhaps by the thief himself. On it was printed the name Thomas Jordan.

“Thomas Jordan!” exclaimed Mr. Lewis, reaching for the card. “Why, he’s a wealthy sportsman. Practically everybody has heard of him. Of course it couldn’t have been he that stole those specimens.”

Bob’s father agreed with him.

“Scarcely anybody is more respected,” he said.

“You say he’s a sportsman, huh?” said Joe thoughtfully. “What does he do?”

“A lawyer by profession,” Mr. Lewis returned. “But in addition he heads a private museum, merely as a hobby, I guess. Has a very wide collection of fauna from all parts of the world. He charges a small admission fee. Makes a lot of money at it.”

“Where does he get his specimens?” inquired Joe.

Mr. Lewis looked puzzled for a moment.

“Why, from different sources,” the naturalist replied. “Goes after some occasionally, buys some—”

“Buys some, does he?” Joe still spoke in a very thoughtful voice. “Then might it not be possible that he will buy those that were stolen—get them from the thief, I mean?”

“By George!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, his eyes brightening. “You may be right, Joe. Strange that none of the rest of us thought of that now. Yes, it’s quite possible for such a thing to happen. Perhaps the thief has already made arrangements with this Mr. Jordan to sell him the specimens.”

“I suggest that we hunt up Jordan immediately,” came from Mr. Lewis. “But I refuse to think that he had a part in the robbery.”

“I don’t think so either,” put in Bob. “From what I’ve heard, he’s considered one of the leading citizens. But it’s possible that the thief could disguise himself as a dealer in wild animals and easily sell them to Jordan.”

“Chances are that is what will happen, if we do not interfere,” Mr. Lewis said. “So I believe we should look up this fellow at once.”

Bob’s father, having instructed the truck driver to return to the museum, led the way to his car. He desired to lose no time in calling on Mr. Jordan, who must be informed of the theft in time to prevent the sale of the stolen specimens.

The object of their remarks lived in a very fashionable residential section, which was at the very edge of the city. His private museum was located but a few squares from his home.

“If we can’t find him one place, perhaps we can another,” said Bob. “That is, if he hasn’t left the city.”

“In that case we’ll have as good a chance to see him first as the thief,” laughed Joe.

Some time later the four pulled up in front of a spacious home in an exclusive residential district. They left the car and moved up to the house.

A butler took the card Mr. Lewis handed him, standing aside a moment later for them to go in. Then, after taking their hats, he disappeared into another room.

The visitors had not long to wait. They had barely taken the chairs offered them when a tall erect man walked up to them.

“You are Mr. Jordan?” asked Joe’s father, rising.

“Yes.”

The naturalist introduced himself and his friends and then lost no time in getting to the point. He told of the theft in the freight yard, then of finding the attorney’s card.

“Naturally we resolved to hunt you up,” he said. “It is entirely possible that this thief has been to see you about buying specimens from him. Of course, you probably did not in the least suspect him. Or, if this is not the case, he got your card from some other source.”

Mr. Jordan was silent for several moments, as if in deep thought. Finally he turned to the others.

“I think I know the very man who stole them,” he announced.

“Good!” cried Joe impulsively.

“A very well-dressed chap,” the lawyer resumed, staring hard at the floor. “He came here about a month ago and said he dealt in all descriptions of specimens. But there was something about him that aroused my suspicions at once. Perhaps it was the way he acted. At any rate, I didn’t trust him. Appeared to be one of these, ah, slick, well-dressed rascals that you see so much of. I told him I desired nothing at present but rare specimens from Africa. He wore a blank look for a minute; then suddenly he gave a start and turned to me with a queer smile. ‘I’ll find you something,’ he said. ‘I think I know where I can get exactly what you want.’ I gave him one of my cards.”

“Perhaps that’s the very man we’re looking for,” said Bob. “Possible, anyway. Has he called you yet?”

“No. But if we think correctly, he may very soon now. Of course, though, he might wait till after the news of the robbery gets in the papers and has died down a bit.”

Mr. Holton shook his head.

“I’m of the opinion that he will sell those specimens before the news gets in the papers,” the naturalist said. “Perhaps he will pick today to do it. The sooner he gets them off his hands, the better chance he’ll have to get away without being found out.”

“Suppose you give me a description of them—the specimens, I mean,” Mr. Jordan suggested. “Then, if the thief comes, I’ll know at once and have him arrested.”

“That will be fine.” Mr. Lewis tore out a sheet of paper from his notebook and wrote down the names of each animal included in the collection. He handed the paper to the attorney.

“I shall be glad to do this for you,” the latter said. “If the thief comes, I’ll slip away somehow to a telephone.”

“We don’t know how to thank you enough,” Mr. Holton said gratefully. “In doing this you will be performing an invaluable service for the museum——”

He stopped abruptly as he noticed the butler entering the room.

“Mr. Henry Overton to see you,” the servant announced, as the attorney arose.

Mr. Jordan took the card the butler handed him. He pondered for several minutes before speaking. Finally he turned his gaze upon the naturalists and their sons.

“Gentlemen,” he said with a smile, “I think the time is at hand. The thief, I believe, is here now.”

There were looks of surprise and astonishment on the faces of the visitors.

“Suppose we four hide in an adjoining room while you talk to this man,” suggested Bob Holton. “Then we can hear what’s being said.”

“You’re fairly sure the caller is the man we were talking about?” asked Mr. Lewis, hesitating a moment before following Bob’s move.

“No, not sure,” Mr. Jordan responded. “But he is a collector of wild animals. And that seems suspicious enough, doesn’t it?

“Tell you what,” he continued. “Suppose you four do as suggested—hide in this room and listen in on us. If it happens that the man is someone else, no harm will have been done.”

The naturalists and their sons needed no urging. They hurried into the next room and hid near the entrance. There was a curtain separating them from the reception room, and all crouched near to peep through.

Their hearts were in their mouths when a minute later a stranger was admitted.

“Doesn’t look much like a crook,” whispered Joe, as he noticed that the man was dressed handsomely.

“Look at his eyes, though,” returned Bob, also keeping his voice very low.

The four listeners strained every nerve to catch what was being said in the next room. They were delighted beyond expression when they found that they could make out every word of the conversation.

“I was here a good while ago,” the stranger was saying. “No doubt you remember me. You told me to let you know as soon as I found some rare specimens from Africa.”

“And you’ve found some?” asked Mr. Jordan rather impatiently.

“Ah, yes. You will be delighted when I tell you what they are. The rarest of the rare. Mounted beautifully by one of my expert taxidermists.”

He opened a small black satchel which he had carried. After a few seconds of nervous fumbling he removed a small leather notebook.

“Here,” he said, handing the book to Mr. Jordan. “The complete list of specimens is here. Each is described carefully. All told, there are five of the most unusual wild creatures imaginable.”

“Only five!” whispered Mr. Holton, appearing suddenly angered. “Why, there were ten in the box that was stolen.”

Almost at once the attorney broached the same matter.

“Five are all you have for sale?” he asked casually. “Why, that is only a small handful, so to speak.”

“Well, ah—” the stranger hesitated before speaking—“I might be able to secure more for you.”

Mr. Jordan looked up suddenly.

“Is that so?” he asked quietly. “It’s rather surprising that you can have them so readily. Of course”—he laughed to relieve the tension—“you don’t go after them yourself, do you?”

The alleged buyer and seller of specimens faltered for a brief period, but at last looked up.

“These I was able to secure from a collector friend, who went on an expedition merely for the pleasure it afforded him, and not for the advancement of science.”

“Oh, yeah?” whispered Bob to his friends who were hiding like himself. “He got ’em from his ‘collector friend’ like I got ’em off a hot-dog stand.”

“No wise-cracking,” grinned Joe. “You might get me to laughing.”

The next few moments of conversation convinced the youths’ fathers that the man in the adjoining room was the thief. A few descriptions of the specimens, which Mr. Jordan purposely read aloud, were sufficient to convict the stranger in the minds of Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis.

From then, the conversation appeared uninteresting, although Bob and Joe, as well as the naturalists, were anxious to see how the attorney would dispose of the stranger.

“And,” continued Mr. Jordan, “what are you asking for these five specimens?”

“The small sum of a hundred dollars,” was the reply.

Mr. Jordan gasped in astonishment. Only a hundred dollars for what should be worth a great deal more than that!

Meanwhile, in the next room, Joe had decided on a plan of action.

“Now that we are convinced that this man is the thief, we are free to do almost anything,” he began, speaking in a very low whisper.

The others looked at him inquiringly.

“My scheme is this,” Joe continued, “I’ll go out——”

“If you’re doing anything, I’m in it with you,” interrupted Bob.

“All right, then. We’ll go out to this man’s car. It’s probably parked in front——”

“Perhaps he came on a street car,” suggested Mr. Holton.

“In that case, my plan won’t work,” Joe said. “But if his car is out there, we’ll look inside it and see if we can find anything that will tell us where he lives. Then we’ll come back. What do you say?”

“Suits me,” returned Bob at once. “We’ll find something if there’s anything to be found.”

“And while you fellows are gone,” began Mr. Holton, “we’ll find some way to get Jordan in here to have him detain the thief as long as possible. But you be careful. There may be someone else in the car.”

As silently as they could, Bob and Joe made their way out of the room and in a roundabout manner found the front door. One glance across the spacious lawn told them that a roadster was parked at the curb. A more careful look convinced them that no one was in the car.

“Now’s our chance,” said Joe, leading the way out to the street. “Of course, this automobile might belong to someone else, but the chances are that it is owned—or at least run—by the man in the house.”

With a cautious look over their shoulders, the chums walked up to the parked car.