"You bet I got her! She's here all right, just like I said she'd be," answered the man in the tree.
Jamie's heart sank. After all his hopes and efforts he became suddenly aware that he could not return to camp triumphantly bearing Lem Horn's silver fox pelt as he had pictured himself doing. Lem would never get the pelt again. Every one in the Bay would go on believing that Indian Jake had shot Lem and stolen the pelt. And he had been so near setting all this right!
It never entered his head that the cache could contain anything else than the pelt. Because he wished Indian Jake to be innocent of the crime, he had come to believe that he was innocent, even though Indian Jake himself had not denied having the stolen property in his possession, and everybody, save only himself and David and Andy, believed Indian Jake had it.
"Here she be safe and sound and as good as ever," said the man as he dropped from the lower limb of the tree to the ground. "Let's open her up and have a drink, Hank."
"I'll go you, Bill. My throat feels as long as a camel's and as dry as a snake's back."
Jamie could see the man called Bill stooping over the small bag to untie it, and presently draw forth a bottle.
"Here she be, and the other three bottles too," said Bill. "You open her up, Hank, while I see if the roll is there and the other stuff."
"Yes, it's all right," he assured. "I guess the Captain didn't miss the money before the ship sailed, and there ain't any way of his gettin' word in to the boss about it now before next spring. We're safe enough to take it back and make our divvy. There won't be any search made for it now."
"Naw, we're safe enough now." Hank tipped the bottle to his lips, and handed it to Bill. "The boss ain't missed his liquor neither, and there won't be any to miss pretty soon the way you're pulin' at it."