The plotters waited until all was quiet and then stole through the camp to where was located the tent occupied by George Strong. Here they came to a halt at the rear of the tent and listened intently.
“He’s asleep,” whispered Ritter.
“Well, you look out that you don’t wake him up,” answered Coulter in a voice that shook from nervousness.
“I’ll be careful. If you see anybody coming give a low whistle,” continued the bully. “Remember to look in every direction.”
Coulter and Paxton promised to keep their eyes open, and as silently as a shadow Reff Ritter walked around to the front of the tent, untied the flap and peered inside.
All was dark, yet in a faint way he discerned George Strong resting on a cot and sleeping soundly. He tiptoed his way into the tent and felt around.
He knew the collection of rare paper money was in a square wooden box with a brass handle. It rested on a campchair close to the head of the cot.
As Ritter touched the wooden box the teacher gave a heavy sigh and turned over. With his heart in his throat the bully crouched down on the floor in a corner. But the teacher did not awaken, and soon commenced to breathe as regularly as ever.
Once Ritter had the wooden box in his grasp he lost no time in quitting the tent. As he came outside Paxton gave a low whistle.
“What’s wrong?”