“I once heard you make a remark which leads me to believe that the news I have to tell will please you,” added Mr. Owens.
“I hope it will,” answered Bob. “I ought to hear something pleasing after all the hard things I have listened to to-night.”
“Well, you have sense enough to know that you alone are to blame. I am sorry enough that you allowed yourself to be led away, but it can’t be helped now. Your wish has been gratified. David Evans has lost every cent of the money he received for his quails.”
Bob, who sat on the other side of the fire-place, with his eyes fastened on the floor, started up and became all attention when these words fell upon his ear. He looked surprised for a moment, and then settled back in his chair with a sigh indicative of the greatest satisfaction. “Why, how did he lose it?” he asked, as soon as he could speak.
“His father took it away from him,” was the reply.
“Good!” cried Bob.
“It seems that both he and Dan were concerned in the matter,” continued Mr. Owens. “Godfrey is hiding somewhere in the swamp, you know, and Dan has been acting as a sort of scout between his camp and the village, and keeping him posted in all that was going on.”
“I wish I had known it,” said Bob. “I would have given Dan more than one hint.”
What would Bob have thought had he known that Dan was the one who set Don Gordon’s hounds on him, and defeated the attempt he had made to break into the cabin and liberate David’s quails? He would have been very likely to give him something besides hints.
“Dan found out enough without help from anybody,” returned Mr. Owens. “How he did it I don’t know; but he managed matters so skilfully that Godfrey dropped down on the cabin at the only time he could have secured the money. If he had waited until the next morning the greenbacks would have been safe in the hands of Don Gordon, who, I believe, acts as David’s banker, and Godfrey might have whistled for them.”