“So I thought,” declared Father Francisco in a troubled voice. “I went to the street for a few minutes to quiet my people. When I returned a moment ago, I could not find the parchment.”
“Might your housekeeper have taken it?” suggested Ken.
“Impossible. My servants are trained never to touch any of my papers.”
“Has anyone else been in the library?” Jack questioned. “For instance, that parrot woman we caught listening at the door?”
“Lolita would have no use for the manuscript. She has no schooling and can neither read nor write.”
The Scouts became aware that Father Francisco was regarding them with a peculiar, thoughtful expression. Belatedly, it dawned upon them that they might be under suspicion.
“I hope you don’t think we took that parchment!” Jack blurted out. “We’re Scouts. It’s part of our creed to be honest and trustworthy.”
“I believe you,” the missionary said. “Give the matter no further thought. True, I value the parchment highly, but sooner or later, the culprit will reveal himself.”
“There’s something mighty queer about that manuscript taking wings,” Ken remarked. “First, we lose the translation. Now the original is gone—just when we need it too.”
“We can’t blame this on Captain Carter,” Jack pointed out. “His boat is probably making harbor about now.”