“Yes,” said the doctor, taking out a many-bladed knife, and then pausing to pass the object round before going farther.
But the roll was returned to him quickly in the impatience felt by all to see whether it should prove to be a scroll containing valuable information, and the doctor inserted the point of his knife beneath the thin twine-like bond. There was a sharp sound as it was divided, and upon being unwound there before the party lay the edge of a roll of very thin, carefully smoothed, yellowish skin, looking like badly-prepared vellum, only feeling far more soft.
“A map, or writing,” said Wilton hoarsely.
“A map, I’m sure,” said Bourne.
“That’s about it, sir,” cried Griggs. “Say, neighbour, you’ve made a find, and the old man wasn’t so mad as he looked.”
“So it seems,” said the doctor, rather breathless in spite of his calm self-contained nature, accustomed to crises.
“Are we on the brink of a great discovery?” said Wilton. “If so, how does the matter stand?”
“It’s the doctor’s find,” cried Griggs, and the two boys began to breathe audibly as they rested their chins in their hands and seemed to devour the little leather scroll.
“No; you brought the poor fellow here.”
“Tchah! What’s the good of fighting about what we haven’t got?” said Griggs, laughing. “What do you say to whacks?”