"I can't say that I did, Randy. The first blow dazed me, and while I remember something of two or three forms, it is all so vague that it amounts to nothing. I rather think, however, that there were at least three men."
"And if there were, I'll bet a new hat those men were Davenport, Tate, and Jackson," returned Jack firmly.
"You may be right, Son. But you know what they say in court: It is one thing to know the truth, and quite another to be able to prove it."
"But who would want to steal those papers if not Davenport and his crowd?" questioned Randy. And then he added hurriedly: "Did they rob you of anything else, Uncle Dick?"
"I don't think so." Dick Rover felt in his pockets. "No, my money and watch and my diamond ring are all safe. If they had been ordinary thieves they would certainly have taken everything of value."
"Our baggage doesn't seem to be disturbed," said Andy, who was looking around. "I guess you are right—they were after those documents and nothing else."
There was a pause, and suddenly the boys saw a queer smile pass over Dick Rover's face, and then he uttered a peculiar whistle.
"What is it, Dad?" said Jack wonderingly. He knew that his father had a habit of whistling in that fashion when something struck him as funny.
"I was just thinking that perhaps those fellows who robbed me had taken a white elephant off my hands," returned Dick Rover.
"Why, what do you mean by white elephant?" questioned Andy.