A HIDDEN PIT.
Factor Scott decided that he would not prefer charges against the two
Indians until he had definitely discovered what they had stolen. But in
the days that passed, to his increasing astonishment, he could find
nothing missing. What had the two prowlers taken from the cellar? It was
a question that was threshed over, pro and con, for many an hour. In
Sandy’s opinion, the solution to the mystery was to be found in only one
way: namely, that Factor Scott had taken a hurried inventory a few days
previous to the robbery and that there were more cases of liquor in the
cellar than he had on record.
“He can say what he likes,” insisted Sandy. “There is the real solution.
Those two Indians wanted fire-water and they broke in and got it.”
However, when Dick reported this theory to the factor, Mr. Scott had a
good laugh over it.
“It wasn’t liquor,” he smiled, “you can tell Sandy for me. Even if I did
make a mistake in my reckoning, I insist that it wasn’t bottles of rum
that the Indians stole.”
“How do you know that?” asked Dick.
“It’s all very simple. If the Indians had stolen liquor they would have
proceeded to get gloriously drunk. They wouldn’t have been able to
resist the temptation. I know Indian nature well enough for that.”
“You’re quite right.” laughed Dick. “We’ll eliminate such an hypothesis.
Now what I’d like to know is, what did they steal out of that cellar?”
The factor bit his lips. “I confess that I don’t know. Every day for the
past three weeks I’ve gone to the cellar and, if there was anything
there beside those empty packing boxes, the cases of liquor and wrapping
paper, I’d have seen it. If it wasn’t for the evidence of the broken
lock on the trading room door, I’d be very much inclined to believe that
you have been the victim of a nightmare or an hallucination.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you in the least,” stated Dick smiling. “However,
as you say, that broken lock is pretty conclusive evidence of a forced
entrance. Of course, you have only my word as to the rest of the story.”
“I wouldn’t doubt you, Dick,” the factor patted his shoulder. “I know
you’re sincere and truthful about this. I really believe that you saw
the two Indians come up from the cellar carrying those two loaded burlap
sacks. By the way, Dick, if those had contained bottles you’d have heard
the rattle.”
“That’s true. No sound came from the sacks.” Dick paused and stroked his
chin reflectively. “Pshaw! We don’t seem to be getting anywhere. Mr.
Scott, will you give me permission to go down into that cellar and
examine it carefully? I just want to satisfy myself that we haven’t
overlooked anything.”
“Certainly. I’d be glad to have you. I’ve been down there myself a
number of times since the robbery. I’ve gone over every foot of space
and found nothing at all suspicious; found nothing that might give me a
clue to what the Mekewai brothers stole. But though I searched
carefully, I might have overlooked something. Two pairs of eyes are
better than one. Go down and look for yourself.”
Dick went down. He lighted the candle that was always to be found on the
shelf near the bottom of the stairway, and explored every inch of space
in that dark interior. The floor of the cellar was constructed of heavy
planks nailed to logs which had been sunk into the earth. In a country
where cement was almost unknown, it was as good a flooring for a
basement as could be found anywhere. Starting at one end of the cellar,
Dick examined every plank in the floor. The planks had been in the
cellar for a long time and they made a clattering noise as he walked
over them. This suggested an idea. He wondered if any of the planks were
loose. He went up to the trading room, procured a heavy chisel and
returned and tried to pry up the planks.
The eighth plank over from the bottom of the stairway, to his great
glee, he discovered was loose. It came up when he exerted a slight
pressure upon it. Grasping the plank next to it, he found that that also
was loose. Pulling up this second board he received a rude shock. The
edge of a gaping hole, freshly dug in the earth, was visible there under
the planking. Removing another section of the floor, he completely
uncovered it. Reaching out for the candle, he explored the shallow pit
below.
The hole was about three feet wide, six feet long and three feet deep.
The dirt taken from it had been thrown under the planking between the
logs used as support for the floor. The pit was absolutely empty.
Dick’s first impulse was to return to the trading room and report his
discovery to Mr. Scott. But on second thought he decided not to do this.
He would work on the case alone, not even saying anything to Sandy and
Toma. He would find out what the Indians had taken out of that pit. When
he did, something told him that he would have a clear case against
Frazer.
He replaced the flooring hurriedly, scraped dust over the loose planks
and ascended to the room above. Busy waiting on a number of customers,
the factor did not accost him. Dick proceeded straight outside and sat
down on the long bench to think it over.
In a few minutes he came to a decision. He got quickly to his feet,
re-entered the trading room and made his way upstairs to the loft. From
among his personal belongings he picked up a small black automatic,
thrust it in his hip pocket and again made his way outside. The first
person he saw was Toma.
“Where you go, Dick, in so big hurry?” the young Indian asked.
Previously, when he had made his plans, Dick had decided to play a lone
hand, but now it would be a little awkward getting rid of Toma. Well it
would do no harm in taking him along. Toma was close-mouthed and
dependable. He might prove to be of valuable assistance in an emergency.
“I’m going down to see those two Indians,” Dick informed him. “Care to
come along?”
“Yes,” grunted his chum.
Dick took him by the arm. “Come along then,” he said.
Together they hurried along the foot trail in the direction of the
river. Passing the warehouse, a voice called out lustily.
“Hey there!”
It was Sandy. Dick and Toma paused while the third member of the trio
shambled up.
“Where are you fellows going?” Sandy inquired suspiciously.
Dick gave up. He could see how impossible it was now to keep anything
from two friends like these. Then and there he confessed.
Both Sandy and Toma were astonished at the outcome of Dick’s
investigations.
“A hole under the floor of the cellar!” Sandy exclaimed. “Good Heavens,
what do you suppose Factor Frazer has been concealing there?”
“I don’t know but I have a hunch,” Dick answered, proud of the
impression he had made.
“Tell us,” pleaded Sandy.
“I haven’t time just now. I’m anxious to get over to the Mekewai
brothers’ tepee to have a look around. There’s a remote chance that
we’ll find those two sacks of loot.”
Sandy balked. “If we’re going over there,” he said, “I want a gun.”
“I have one,” Dick patted his hip pocket. “Anyway I don’t think they’ll
have the courage to attack us in broad daylight. Hurry if you’re
coming.”
They followed Dick down the path to the river, then along the shore to
the Mekewai tepee. His two chums crowding close behind him, Dick knocked
gently against the closed flap.
“Hello! Hello!” he called.
They heard subdued voices within. The flap was drawn aside and the
Mekewai boys stooped down and peered at them through the entrance.
“What you want?” one of them asked gruffly.
“Came over to see if you could lend us a canoe so that we can go
fishing,” lied Dick. “Our own is damaged and we are having it repaired.”
“No have canoe,” growled one of the Mekewai boys.
But Dick was not put off so easily.
“Do you know anyone that has?”
“Come in,” one of the Indians invited, “an’ I try think where mebbe you
find one.”
Dick pressed a coin in the hand of each of the two brothers.
“Wish you could,” he said, stepping inside.
One glance told Dick what he wanted to know. There were no sacks here.
Nothing at all of an incriminating nature. Dick was tremendously
disappointed and he could not resist turning his head and looking at
Sandy.
Sandy was amused. There was a twinkle in his eyes and the beginning of a
smile puckering the corners of his mouth.
“I think mebbe I know fellow that has canoe,” one of the Indians spoke
up. “How much you like pay?”
“We didn’t want to buy one,” stated Sandy, helping Dick out. “We wanted
to borrow one.”
“Don’t know anybody like ’em borrow you canoe.”
“Thank you,” said Dick, backing toward the door. “In that case we’ll
have to wait until our own is repaired.”
The three boys went out, Dick scowling, Sandy and Toma amused over the
interview.
“Never mind, old chap,” consoled Sandy, “you may have better luck next
time. By the way, what do you think they’ve done with the stuff?”
“Don’t worry, they’ve either hidden it somewhere or have sent it over to
Frazer. I hardly expected to find it there. There was about one chance
in a thousand.”
“Now that we’re on the subject,” coaxed Sandy, “Perhaps you’ll be
willing to tell me what your hunch is. What did those two Indians bring
up out of that pit?”
“Gold,” came the answer unhesitatingly.
Sandy looked dubious. “What makes you think it was gold?”
“I’ll tell you why. If you recall the conversation between your Uncle
Walter and Frazer the day we had the trouble in the trading room, you
will remember that Frazer said that he had paid the shortage in gold.
That’s the only reason I have for suspecting that it was gold that the
Indians took out of the cellar. If Frazer had two thousand dollars worth
of gold, sufficient to cover his shortage, it is not unlikely that he
had more of it stored away somewhere. Frazer did not explain
satisfactorily to your uncle how he had obtained that gold. The
inference is that he stole it.”
“Seems reasonable,” said Sandy, “and I wonder from whom.”