ing through the streets of Bayport, out toward the woods where Chet Morton's roadster had been abandoned.
They were fired with enthusiasm again, in spite of the momentary setback they had received when their father squelched Frank's plan of going around to the pawnshops. They felt now that they were on a new trail.
They came to the abandoned road that led into the woods and they brought their motorcycles as far as possible, finally leaving them by the roadside and going ahead on foot. Frank located the place where the roadster had been driven off into the woods, for the trees were still bent and broken, and the two boys plunged into the depths of the thickets.
At last the Hardy boys emerged into the little cleared space where the roadster had been found. Everything was just as they had left it. They examined the ground carefully.
"He might have dropped letters from his pocket, or something," said Joe hopefully, as they explored the clearing.
But the auto thief had not been so careless. There was not even a footprint, for the boys had trampled the ground thoroughly after the roadster had been discovered.
"If I had only thought to look for footprints at the time!" groaned Joe, in disappointment.
"Or finger-prints. He must have left finger-
