“It was as big as he could lift,” I replied. “Elam has got the most of it in a belt under his clothes. We came here to buy cattle, you know.”
“Well, I must hear all about that some day. Now you go and hunt for that pocket-book, and don’t you come back without it. Take plenty of grub along so that you will have something to eat, for if you don’t you will be up a stump. Good-by, and good luck to you!”
Mr. Chisholm turned about and walked into the willows, and Tom and I stood and looked at each other. He had wished us good luck the same as if we were going on a day’s journey, and yet it would take us a week to go back to the ranch, and another week to get back to camp, to say nothing of the difficulties we would meet on the way. I didn’t mind it in the least, but I saw that Tom didn’t know what to think about it. When he got into a place that he could not think his way out of, he turned to me.
“Is that all he has to say to us?” asked Tom.
“What more do you want?” I enquired. “He has bid us good-by and told us to take plenty of provisions along, and that’s about all he can do. Now, Tom, can you saddle our horses without arousing anybody? If you can, I will go to the wagon and get some grub.”
Yes, Tom could do that, and he started off at once to carry out his part of the programme. The horses were hitched in the outer edge of the willows, and consequently he had nothing to do but to make two trips to the fire after our saddles and weapons; while I had to work in the presence of everybody, and there were two men around our camp fire that I did not want to know anything about it. They may have been all right, but Mr. Davenport had not taken them into his confidence and that made me suspicious of them. When I got within reach of the circle of light thrown out by our camp fire I moved with cautious footsteps, for Elam and Bob were sleeping under the wagon, and threw aside the canvas covering before I stepped in. Merciful Heavens, what a sight there was presented to my gaze! Everything in the wagon had been pawed over, and furthermore, some of the things had been thrown upon the body of Mr. Davenport. It was some of that Henderson’s work, and showed how badly he felt over the death of his brother! If I had been in the humor to do it I could have had some shooting done in that camp inside of five minutes, but instead of that I sprang into the wagon and removed the articles of desecration, and placed the blanket evenly over the figure as it was before.
“This is one thing I shall always blame myself for,” said I, under my breath. “I ought to have brought Mr. Chisholm here at once, and showed him what that man is capable of doing. I believe I could have turned the tables in short order without the long ride that is before me.”
So filled with rage that I could hardly see, I proceeded to select the grub that was to do Tom and me during our ride to Mr. Davenport’s ranch and back: two slices of bacon and a bag to put them in, some meal, and a little salt. That was all we took with us. I lowered them to the ground and was about to follow them, when I saw that Frank was awake and looking at me. Placing my finger upon my lips I walked over and talked to him.
“Where are you fellows going?” he asked, in his ordinary tone of voice. “One would think you were going to skip the camp.”
“And so we are,” I replied, in a whisper. “Tom Mason and I are going after the missing pocket-book.”