He had suddenly remembered how he had lost the two letters from home at the time he had been robbed by Nick Jasniff of the contents of his pocketbook. If Jasniff had read those letters he had learned much about the trouble in Crumville with the gypsies, and he had also learned from Jessie’s letter that she and Laura were contemplating a trip to Boston.
“Jasniff is bitter against Mr. Wadsworth for having had him sent to prison,” Dave reasoned; “and he is equally bitter against me and my family for what I did in capturing him. He took a train for the East. Can it be possible that he is mixed up in this affair?”
This thought sent Dave off on a new chain of reasoning, and he became so restless that, instead of trying to go to sleep, he pulled up the shade of one of the windows, propped his pillow close against the glass, and lay there thinking and looking out on the star-lit landscape. But at last tired nature asserted itself, and he fell into a fitful doze, from which he did not awaken until it was about time to get up.
“I’ve got a new idea,” he announced to his chum, after the two had washed and dressed and were on their way to the dining-car for breakfast. And thereupon he related his suspicions against Jasniff.
“It may be so,” mused the senator’s son. “It would be just like that rascal to go in with those gypsies and try to do your folks and the Wadsworths harm.”
On the train the two young civil engineers met several very agreeable people, but they were in no frame of mind to make friends just then. Though they did their best to be pleasant, they were glad enough when the train, after a stop at Minneapolis, finally rolled into the station at St. Paul. Here, with only a few minutes to spare, they rushed out to the telegraph office. There was a message for them, and Dave tore the envelope open eagerly. One glance at the contents, and his face fell.
“No news of importance,” he announced. “Come on. We’ll have to go on to Chicago.” And then the journey to the great City of the Lakes was renewed.
At Chicago another message awaited them. This was a little longer than the other had been, but gave them scant satisfaction, reading as follows:
“Strong suspicions against gypsies who have disappeared. Demand for fifty thousand dollars.
“Dunston Porter.”