“Not until you tell us where you have been,” grinned Alex, dangling the bag before Jule’s eyes. “Not until you tell us where you got those oilskins. Not until you tell us everything about what you’ve been doing to-night! Then we’ll let you know what’s in this bag!”
CHAPTER V.—THE BOY FROM PERU
What Alex really wanted to say was: “Not until you tell us whether our money is safe.” But he restrained his tongue and rattled the contents of the bag alluringly.
“That’s a funny thing to keep in a coffee-pot,” Jule exclaimed. “What did you make the coffee in to-night? What is in the bag?”
“Tell us!” insisted Clay.
“Well, after I saw you coming, down by the warehouse, you know,” began the boy, nodding at Clay and dropping into a chair, “I went on down to Madison street and got to Doctor Holcomb’s office without getting wet at all. The oilskins he sent me did the business—kept me dry as tinder in all that rain.”
“So he sent for you, did he, and supplied the oilskins?”
It was Clay who asked the question. There was hope in the lad’s breast now, for Jule would not be apt to go so far away without taking some precautions regarding the money.
“Oh, I told you all about that,” Jule went on, impatiently, as if reciting something already well known. “I remained here until I saw you coming, over there by the warehouse,” the boy continued, turning to Clay, “then I went out to meet you, so as to tell about my going away to see Dr. Holcomb. When I got to the end of the wharf you were not there, but in a moment I saw you at the corner of the building, and called out to you to watch the boat while I went to see the doctor.”
“Did you wait until I got into the cabin?” asked Clay, turning away so that the astonishment in his face might not be seen.