“I do not understand vot you mean, Mr. Tarzan,” purred Bluber, rubbing his palms together. “I am sure dere is some mistake, unless—” he cast a furtive and suspicious glance in the direction of Peebles and Throck.
“I don’t know nothin’ about no bag of stones,” said Peebles, “but I will say as ’ow you can’t trust no Jew.”
“I don’t trust any of you,” said Tarzan. “I will give you five seconds to hand over the bag of stones, and if you don’t produce it in that time I shall have you thoroughly searched.”
“Sure,” cried Bluber, “search me, search me, by all means. Vy, Mr. Tarzan, I vouldn’t take notting from you for notting.”
“There’s something wrong here,” growled Throck. “I ain’t got nothin’ of yours and I’m sure these two haven’t neither.”
“Where is the other?” asked Tarzan.
“Oh, Kraski? He disappeared the same night you brought us to that village. We hain’t seen him since—that’s it; I got it now—we wondered why he left, and now I see it as plain as the face on me nose. It was him that stole that bag of stones. That’s what he done. We’ve been tryin’ to figure out ever since he left what he stole, and now I see it plain enough.”
“Sure,” exclaimed Peebles. “That’s it, and ’ere we are, ’n that’s that.”
“Ve might have knowed it, ve might have knowed it,” agreed Bluber.
“But nevertheless I’m going to have you all searched,” said Tarzan, and when the head-man came and Tarzan had explained what he desired, the three whites were quickly stripped and searched. Even their few belongings were thoroughly gone through, but no bag of stones was revealed.