“Where did you catch them?” inquired Roy.
“Right here in front of the house,” answered the clerk. “They came in and gave themselves up.” And then he went on to tell their story pretty nearly as I have told it. For once in their lives Jake and Sam had told the truth, and the sheriff knew whom he must find in order to recover the money. Of course the boys did not know where their father had gone, but the officer put implicit faith in the old woman’s story.
“There’s where we’ve got to go, Swan,” said the sheriff, “and there’s where we shall find our man, if we find him at all. I have engaged four unemployed guides to go with me, and you will be a big addition to our party. Joe and his friends—”
“They ain’t going,” said Mr. Swan; and then he told his story, whereat the sheriff laughed uproariously.
“But you are not to blame,” said he, consolingly. “Matt would have played the same game on any body else. But he’s got to the end of his rope now, for I know just what I have to work on. Don’t neglect to lay in a good supply of provisions, for it may take us two or three weeks to catch him, and I am not coming back without him.”
Bright and early the next morning two parties left the Sportsman’s Home and started away in different directions, the sheriff and his posse heading for Indian River, and Joe and his friends striking for the “old perch-hole.” They followed Mr. Swan’s advice to the letter, and slept that night in the same camp that the squatter had occupied two nights before. They found the most of their things, too, some in the bushes, some floating in the creek, and the heavy articles, like the two extra camp-axes and superfluous dishes, at the bottom of it.
“Joe’s unlucky canoe is gone again, and so are our blankets and all our grub,” said Roy,
“The possession of the six thousand dollars must have made Matt good-natured, or he would have smashed our boats before he left.”
“Perhaps he didn’t think it best to waste time on them,” said Arthur. “He might have broken them up in a few minutes with the axes, but we might have heard him. The cove isn’t so very far from here.”
Having recovered the most of their property the boys became impatient to join the sheriff’s posse; but they were not well enough acquainted with the country to make the journey to Indian Lake in the dark. So they built a cheerful fire, cooked a good supper and finally went to sleep wrapped in the new blankets they had purchased to take the place of those Matt Coyle had carried off. Two days later they had returned Mr. Hanson’s boat in good order, settled their bills at the hotel, placed Mr. Swan’s canoe under cover, and were on the way to the pond in their own skiff. They grumbled at the rain, as the squatter had done when he passed that way a few hours in advance of them, and did most of the rowing with the awning up and their rubber coats and hats on. After they had made about fifty miles up the river they began telling one another that if the sheriff had gone on to Sherwin’s Pond he had made a mistake.