“I don’t care. I’ll be took up some time, most likely, an’ it might as well be this week as next. I ain’t to blame ’cause the money ain’t where I left it, an’ I won’t be larruped for it nuther.”
Matt was in a quandary, and he could not see any way to get out of it without lowering his dignity. According to his way of thinking Jake deserved punishment for the course he had pursued, but Matt dared not administer it for fear that the boy would take revenge on him in the manner he had threatened. At this juncture Sam came to his assistance.
“Look a yer, pap,” said he. “You was hid in the bresh where you could see the sheriff an’ his crowd when they crossed the outlet on the mornin’ they stole Jake’s canoe, wasn’t you? Well, couldn’t you have seen the gun-cases if they had ’em in their hands?”
Matt said he thought he could.
“You didn’t see ’em, did you? Then don’t that go to prove that the guides didn’t find the guns when they found the canoe? Somebody else took ’em, an’ the money, too.”
“Who do you reckon it was?”
“I’ll bet it was that Bigden crowd.”
“I’ll bet it was too,” exclaimed Jake, catching at the suggestion as drowning men catch at straws. Of course he knew that Tom and his cousins carried off the guns, for he had seen them do it; but he dared not say so, for fear that his father would punish him for permitting it. Where the money went was a question that was altogether too deep for him. Matt was so impressed by Sam’s answer that he found it necessary to sit down and fill and light his pipe.
“I’ll bet it was, too,” said he, when he had taken a few long whiffs. “I thought that Bigden boy was mighty sot up an’ independent the second time I seen him, an’ he could afford to be, knowin’, as he did, that I couldn’t perduce the guns. Now what’s to be done about it?”
“Why can’t we take a run down to their camp to-morrer an’ see what they’ve got in it?” said Jake. “Of course we’ll have to swim to get on their side of the creek—”