The officer nodded.
“An’ do you reckon Jake knows where they hid the money?”
“We don’t think they hid it. Jake capsized them, and turned the money out into the lake.”
“Well, I’ll bet you it ain’t there now,” said Rube. “Jake got it up last night, less’n Matt stopped him.”
“Was Matt with him?”
“He follered him in one of the boats that he stole from you fellers up the creek on the day you burned his camp.”
“Where are those boats now?” inquired Mr. Swan.
“Up to the head of the outlet, hid in the bresh. I can show ’em to you any time.”
“Come on and do it then,” said the Sheriff. “There’s no use wasting time here. It won’t take us long to row up to that snag and see if the money is there. Four of us are enough. We will take one of the prisoners with us to show us right where the snag is, and the other can stay here.”
Having designated by name the guides whom he wished to accompany him, the sheriff followed Rube through the woods toward the place where the skiffs were concealed, Mr. Swan bringing up the rear with me on his shoulder. The skiffs were quickly hauled out of their hiding-places and launched, and at the end of an hour we were all anchored alongside the snag, and two of the guides were searching the bottom of the lake for the valises, which I knew to be all of ten miles from there in a straight line, and twenty by water. At last the guides came up and reported that there was no use of looking any longer. The grip-sacks were not there.