“Hurry up!” shouted Jack, impatiently. “Say something!”
“It went out of the window of the shanty!” declared Jimmie.
“Aw, go on!” scorned Harry. “Just jumped up and flew away!”
With a laugh Jimmie then related what he had seen at the moment when all the other occupants of the hut had been giving their attention to the disturbance at the front door. The tale astonished his chums.
“I saw the hand as plainly as I see my own!” declared Jimmie, holding his hand up to the light of the single oil lamp. “It was the hand of a gentleman, I should say. I mean by that, it was soft and well kept—not hard and calloused. The peculiar mark by which I shall know it again if I see it was a scar extending clear across the back. I somehow connected that scar with a saber or sword cut. It was an ugly wound.”
“Did you see anything of the man?” asked Ned, eagerly.
“No, I wasn’t turned far enough and didn’t dare move,” replied Jimmie. “All at once I seemed to comprehend that the thief was saving us a lot of troublesome delay, and I just let him make his getaway without raising a holler! I thought he was helping us as well as himself!”
“I think we ought to vote Jimmie a credit mark!” declared Ned.
“He certainly exercised wonderful self-control in not making a noise at a critical time,” added Jack. “I wonder, now, if the chap at the door made the disturbance to assist the other fellow in grabbing the parcel. It would almost seem as if they were working together!”