"Couldn't they find any trace of the bag at all?"
"Not a thing. It was mighty queer, and the woman made it worse by being so excited. She could hardly tell when she had seen the bag last, or where. First she said she had had it in her lap and then she said she guessed she had put it on a hook with her coat."
"What did they do about it?"
"I don't know, for I got off here, while the lady and her mother went through to Seattle," answered the drummer.
The commercial man could tell but little more of importance to the Rovers, and presently, when his companion came with the sample cases, he went away.
"Dick, do you think Tom took that lady's handbag with the jewels?" asked Sam, when the two were by themselves.
"Sam, I don't know what to think," was the discouraging reply. "I only know one thing—the quicker we locate Tom and put him in some safe place, the better."
"Do you—you think his mind is affected for good—I mean for always?"
"Let us hope not. Why, it would be terrible to have to keep him in an asylum for the rest of his life! It would just about kill father. And think of Nellie."
"It certainly is the worst thing that ever happened!" muttered Sam. "It's worse than our trouble with Dan Baxter, Lew Flapp, or with Sobber and those brokers, and old Crabtree."