Heinrich did not know what to make of the strange behavior of his
employer's son. He stared at him curiously, and it was plain to see that
he was telling the truth in all he said.
"What you mean the car iss stolen?" he inquired finally.
"Nothing," said Bob blankly. "It's too much for me."
"I go to a party last night," said Heinrich. "I come home late and the
door here iss open. Here iss the car too. Why you think it stolen?"
"I don't know," said Bob. "I guess I must have dreamt it."
"You are sick," exclaimed Heinrich. "You had better go back and go to
bed. If you wish I go with you to the house."
"No," said Bob. "I'm all right." He rose to his feet dazedly, looked in
bewilderment at the car again and started out.
"I have a loss," said Heinrich, convinced that Bob was probably
all right.
"What's that?" demanded Bob, turning around.
"Burglars," said Heinrich.
"Where? In the garage here?"
"Yes. Last night," and Heinrich brushed a tear from his eye.
"You did?" exclaimed Bob.
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