“No, Willie. Not in the first wire. We’ll report Stony’s death and ask him to reply.”
It had been the Scout plan to start on toward Belton City, a journey of several days, but in view of the promise made to Old Stony, they now were uncertain what to do.
“We’ve already lost most of the morning,” Mr. Livingston said, looking at his wristwatch. “If I get a telegram off right away, we might have a reply by tonight if we’re lucky.”
He reflected a moment, then reached a decision.
“We’ve paid for the site until tomorrow morning, boys. If we’re ever going to hear from Craig Warner, we ought to have a reply by that time.”
Willie and Warwick decided to ride into the main section of town with the Scout adviser. Jack and Ken agreed to watch the camp while the others were dispatching the telegram.
“Don’t let Walz or anyone grab that map,” Willie warned, as the car pulled away.
Left to themselves, Jack and Ken discussed Old Stony for a while. Now that they were away from the hospital and the magic of his voice, the tale of treasure seemed farfetched.
“Maybe it was just a fixation he had,” Ken said thoughtfully. “I’ve read of old prospectors drawing maps of imaginary places. Then they’d dream over ’em so long they’d convince themselves the treasure was real.”
“Jarrett Walz seemed to think Stony’s story mostly hot air. At least, that’s what he put out at first. But if he didn’t believe it, why did he paw through everything in the cabin?”