“Yes,” again agreed Lanky. “And it’s my impression the box they dropped off the Speedaway that day and the box we saw on the rowboat that night and the box we saw in the loft to-day are all the same box.”
“I’ve just been wondering if that is true.”
Again silence reigned on the Rocket.
Frank called for the lights, which Lanky attended to without further ado. The sun’s rays had passed out below the horizon, the day was coming to an end, and the boys were getting toward home in the beautiful hour of twilight.
The whole scene was different. Things which had appeared plain and definite during the sun’s hours were now blots and blurbs on the dancing surface of the river. Paul and Ralph and Buster saw things which were new to them.
What was the proper move to make? Frank asked himself the question time after time. Should he go back and recover the trunk or chest of silverware and also the metal box of jewels and restore them to the widow from whom they had been stolen?
Frank knew that he and his four friends in this boat, without any help, could very easily return to the Marmette place an hour or two later, quietly recover both the large chest and the smaller box, and he believed they could get away without being discovered.
But, if this was done, what would be the result?
Simply that he and Lanky, already accused of knowing something of the robbery, would still stand accused by those whose minds had become poisoned. True, the goods would be returned, but the attitude of the poisoned minds would be that the boys had become fearful and had restored the stolen goods in fear of being caught with them in their possession.
On the other hand, if some plan were worked out by which the actual thieves could be caught removing the stolen goods or dividing their booty among themselves, two very necessary ends would be achieved: First, their own skirts would be shown to be clean of the robbery; second, the thieves would be removed from further contaminating contact with society.