Alex’s first thought was of the money, the fifty thousand dollars in
gold notes which he had been handling just before he had dropped off
into the sound sleep from which Captain Joe had awakened him. The oiled
silk the bear cub was playing with had enclosed the money! That had not
disappeared, but where were the precious notes—the money upon which so
much depended? The boy was dazed for an instant.
Then the thought that one of his chums might be playing a practical joke
on him came to his mind. Of course that was it! The motor boat was
anchored nearly in the middle of the Colorado river, not far from the
Gulf of California, at least a mile from either shore, so no one could
have stolen the money!
The position of the sun told the boy that he had not been asleep more
than an hour, and there were no signs of a boat on the river. If some
thief had boarded the boat Captain Joe would have attacked him. Then he
remembered that the dog had not attacked Don, and was not so certain of
that point. Still, he was hopeful that Case or Clay had taken the money
while he slept, in return for his secrecy in hiding the fact of its
possession from them. Yes; that certainly was it.
The thought cheered him, and, rising to his feet, he looked through the
open window which gave on the interior of the cabin, expecting to see
the boys chuckling over his distress. But the boys were still asleep.
This was a facer! The next impression that came to the boy was that
Teddy had shaken the notes out of the silk covering and that they had
fallen into the river. This was not a pleasant conclusion, and Alex
tried to dodge it, but still it forced itself upon him.
And the original papers? They had gone with the money! Alex felt like
dropping into the river and sinking to the bottom. He had copies of the
papers, but he just could not lose that money! It did not belong to him!
It did not belong to the boy who had entrusted it to him. He would be
accused of stealing it!
He looked in every crevice of the aft deck, even lifting the trap
covering and looking down on the gasoline tanks. He crawled quietly back
over the cabin roof and searched every part of the deck. There was no
trace of the money or the papers. It was maddening!
“I guess the notes are drifting down stream,” the boy finally said, with
tears of vexation in his eyes. “Captain Joe,” he added, turning to the
dog, who had followed him over the cabin to the forward deck, “why
didn’t you wake me before? Why did you let Teddy get the package?”
Captain Joe looked gravely up at the boy and wagged his stump of a tail.
His eyes said that he knew all about it, and could explain everything if
he only had the gift of speech!
“Did some one come aboard and get it, Captain Joe?” the lad asked, half
convinced, in his misery, that the dog could explain the mystery.
The dog seemed to understand the question, for he sniffed at the rail of
the boat, appeared to pick up a scent, sprang over the cabin, and sat
down on the aft deck to look steadily into the river.
“Oh, he did!” Alex cried. “He came in over the prow, climbed over the
cabin, dropped down on the aft deck, snatched the money, and dove into
the river. I understand, old boy! But why didn’t you stop him?”
Captain Joe, recognizing the tone of reproach, slunk back over the cabin
and lay down on the prow, a favorite resting-place. Teddy laid the strip
of oiled silk at Alex’s feet and looked up with twinkling eyes, as if
inviting the boy to pick it up and have a romp with him!
“You poor little beastie!” Alex exclaimed. “If you could only talk for a
minute I’d soon know where the money went to! I believe Captain Joe
might tell me more if he wasn’t so lazy!” he added, going back over the
cabin and calling the dog to him. “I believe that stern deck is
haunted!” he added.
This time he gave the silk to the dog and waited to see what he would do
with it. Captain Joe was undecided for a moment. He seemed to think Alex
a very foolish boy for handing him such a rag as that to pick up a scent
from! Then he went to the aft deck and laid the silk down on the extreme
edge of the low railing. Teddy snatched it off and began romping with
it, much to the disgust of the anxious boy. Hopeless!
“Fine old watchdog you are!” Alex exclaimed. “Next thing you know, some
one will come on board and steal your ears! You let Don on this deck,
and permitted him to sleep here, you ornery cur, and never said a word
to us about it! Now you’ve let some pirate come here and steal more
money than I’ll ever be able to pay back—not if I live to be a thousand
years old! I didn’t think it of you, Captain Joe!”
The dog slunk away, and Alex sat down to the bitterest time of his life.
What could he say to Don when he returned and asked for the money? What
could Don say when questioned regarding the honesty of his motives in
taking the handbag and the notes from Trumbull? He could not restore the
money, and therefore his assertion that he had taken it only to place it
where it belonged would look decidedly flat.
Alex was too honest to think of denying that he had taken the money from
its hiding-place in the sand, although no one knew that he had done so!
He could only admit taking it and tell the story of its loss—a story
which he feared no one would believe! The fifty thousand dollars were
gone, and the boy believed that his chance for an honorable career had
gone with them.
At last he picked up the silk from the ledge where Captain Joe had
placed it, folded it carefully, and put it into his pocket. Then he
looked about for the belt. That, too, was gone! He looked everywhere for
it, but it was not found.
He made an especially careful search for it because he knew that he must
account to Clay and Case for it. They knew that he had had it. They had
been led to believe that it still held the stolen money! What would they
say when he told them the exact truth about the matter?
The boys slept until nearly sunset, and then came rolling out of the
cabin proclaiming appetites beyond those of all other days! As for Alex,
it did not seem to him that he would ever want to eat again!
“Tell you what, boys,” Clay explained, as the three sat down to a
quickly-prepared supper, “we ought to go on up the river to-night. We
ought to get farther away from the Mexicans and the deputy sheriff. They
are hot after the money Alex is carrying around in that belt, and we may
be attacked at any time. We ought to get up past Yuma, at least!”
Alex bit his lip and turned his head away. The time had come when he
must face his chums with a story so flimsy that he would not have
believed it if coming from the lips of another! The time had come!
“Yes,” Case agreed, “we ought to be getting away from here. The men we
did business with down the river would go to any trouble to follow us;
would commit any crime to secure possession of the fifty thousand
dollars Alex has in the belt the Mexican robbed Don Durand of.”
“Where is the belt?” Clay asked. “Why don’t you show up, Alex, and let
us see what a stack of money looks like? How long do you suppose we will
have to keep it before Don gets to us and claims it?”
“Yes; produce it!” cried Case. “I can smell it now!”
“I haven’t got it!” was all Alex could find words to say just then.
The others looked at him in utter bewilderment until his eyes fell.
“Who has it, then?” Clay demanded, in a moment.
“I don’t know!” Alex replied, drearily, and then he told the whole
miserable story—of the sand in the belt, of the papers hidden with the
sand, of the concealment in the levee, of the removal, and finally of
the loss.
Clay drew a long breath when the boy had concluded.
“I don’t expect you to believe it,” Alex ventured. “I wouldn’t believe a
yarn like that if told me by a preacher.”
“If I told you, you would believe it, wouldn’t you?” asked Clay.
“Yes,” answered Alex, “I would!”
“Then I believe you!” Clay shouted, loyally, taking the boy’s hand.
“And I, too, believe you!” Case cut in. “It is queer, though!”
Alex tried hard to tell the boys how much he appreciated their loyalty,
but his lips were quivering, his throat was too dry for speech, and
there was a suspicious moisture in his eyes, so he gave over the attempt
and sat looking at them in a way which told the story much better than
any words could have done. Half his burden had dropped away, for they
trusted him. Clay was first to speak.
“Suppose we spot the thief by the process of elimination,” he said.
“Go ahead, I’m all clogged up, mentally,” Case answered. “How any one
ever got on the _Rambler_ and got off again without our knowing it, is
something I can’t understand. Why, there’s not been a boat in sight all
day, unless one came up while we were asleep,” he added, a little
sheepishly. “I believe there’s magic in it.”
“Who knew that you had the money, Alex?” asked Clay.
“The Mexicans, and they thought it was in the belt. Don probably thinks
it is still in the sand heap, and King never knew I had it.”
“Then we have only three to look after. These are the two Mexicans and
Don. The others are out of it,” said Clay.
“But why Don?” asked Case.
“The three I have named would have plenty of reasons for following the
boat,” Clay continued. “Now, let us consider their several chances of
overtaking us. We have traveled about fifteen miles by river, but we
have passed around a long point of land, and are not more than eight
miles from the starting point. You can see how it is by looking at the
river map.
“Now, the Mexicans would be likely to have horses near at hand, as they
had been deputized as special officers to assist in the capture of the
boy. They could, by quick action, chase across the point and head us
off.
“Now, about Don. He would go back to the levee to look for the package
of money and would lose time. Besides, he would have to travel on foot,
so that, it seems to me, leaves him out of it. This passes it all up to
the two Mexicans. What do you think of my Sherlocking, eh?”
“Unless Teddy shook it out of the package and dropped it overboard, you
must be right,” Alex hastened to say. “He was playing with the silk, you
remember!”
“Or unless Don ran across the point of land we sailed around and took
it,” Case suggested, with a wink. “He might have done so, you know, so
that knocks your Sherlocking all out!”
“What would Captain Joe be doing while the Mexicans were on the boat?”
asked Clay, perplexed. “I never thought of that! He loves Mexicans like
cats love hot soap. Guess my elimination theory has led me into a hole
that gets me nowhere! Now, what is to be done?”
“I don’t know!” Alex answered. “I’ve lost the power of thought.”
“I can’t think in such large sums as fifty thousand dollars,” grinned
Case. “Don’t ask me for an expert opinion! I can’t give one!”
There was a long silence, and then Alex took out the copies of the
inscriptions—as he called them—which he had found in the belt. Clay and
Case opened their eyes wide at sight of them. When Alex explained their
history, as far as he knew, the boys fell to studying the letters and
figures with anxious interest. Alex looked on doubtfully.
“What do you make of them?” he finally asked, as Clay held one of the
papers up to the light.
“Is this an exact copy?” he asked. “Did you place your letters and
figures just as the letters and figures on the originals were placed?”
“I surely did,” was the reply. “They are exact copies.”
“Hush, then!” Clay whispered, with a grin. “We tread on dangerous
ground! Aha! These papers tell of the whereabouts of a buried treasure!”
“Hush!” repeated Case, with a mocking face. “Hush! Also S’cat!”
Alex looked at his chums reprovingly. This did not seem to him to be a
time for by-play. He had lost a large sum of money which did not belong
to him, and all the world looked black and creepy!
“Oh, cheer up!” Clay laughed, slapping the boy on the back. “We’ll find
your money for you! Everything always comes out right with us! You know
that yourself. Everything always comes out just as it should!”
“You know it!” Case cut in. “You know that we always find the right
answer! Now, suppose we let this money and these inscriptions take care
of themselves for the present, while we decide what to do to-night. It
will be bright, from all appearances, so perhaps we’d better be on our
way to the big noises of the Colorado.”
“I’m willing to go anywhere!” Alex complained. “I can never look myself
in the face again! Think of losing fifty thousand dollars, when a five
case note would look like unlimited wealth to me!”
“Here comes a fleet of river boats!” Clay shouted. “Look at the little,
one-sided things! What they loaded with. Case?”
“I’m not a mind reader!” laughed the boy. “Looks, though, like they were
loaded with merchandise. I suppose they’ve been lying in some cool cove
all day, and will make good time to-night.”
The little steamers came slowly up to where the _Rambler_ was anchored
and passed on without giving the motor boat more attention than a close
scrutiny from the decks. The sun was going down over the ranges to the
west and dusk was settling over the valley of the Colorado.
The boys heard the rattle of spars and chains for some time after the
little steamers had disappeared under the veil of the twilight, and now
and then a black column of smoke from some stack proclaimed the activity
of a fireman working down in a shallow hold.
After a short wait the _Rambler_ was gotten under way, and the boys
prepared for a wakeful night. They sat on the forward deck for a long
time, talking over the strange events of the day, and then Alex was
almost forced by his chums off to his bunk.
As the weary, discouraged lad turned into his bunk he heard noises on
deck which set him to wondering what his chums were doing, but he was
too sleepy to open his eyes. He turned his face to the wall and was soon
asleep. Case and Clay sat well forward and did not hear the bump of a
boat against the stern.
The dark figure on the aft deck was out of their sight.