CHAPTER XXII.
A SLIGHT MISTAKE.
“Tell me what this is, Pink,” said Clancy, “and you can have it.”
The red-headed chap had pulled a short, thick bar from the bag. The surface of the bar was rough, and plainly it was of some sort of metal.
Ballard took the bar and weighed it in his hands; then he held it in one hand and rubbed the other hand over it.
“Feels like a chunk of lead,” said he. “Weighs nine or ten pounds, I should think. Wait till I strike a match and get a better look at it.”
The bar did not improve any upon being examined in the flare of a match. It had a brown, dingy look, and Ballard dropped it with an exclamation of disgust.
“Anything else in the bag, Red?” he asked.
“Three more bars, just like that one,” was the reply.
“I’d like to know why those fellows were taking so much trouble with that stuff. Looked to me as though they were running off with it.”
“That’s an easy guess. They’re a couple of thieves, Pink, and they’ve been stealing.”