“Has there anything happened to us on this trip that you don’t know about?” he asked, then.
“Why,” replied the other, “we’ve been hearing about you all down the river. Don’t forget that we have telegraph wires in this country, as well as up north. Yes, we’ve heard a lot about you, and, to tell the truth, I’ve been waiting rather anxiously for you to make your appearance. What about the old mansion, where the negro boy and the dog got your friends out of a bad mess?”
“Say,” Alex., who had been listening, cut in, “what do you know about that old mansion? What kind of a gang is it that holds forth there?”
“You ought to know!” smiled the sheriff. “You called on them.”
“Yes, and they insisted on our making a longer visit!” grinned Alex.
“Now, what is it about the boy?” the sheriff said, changing the subject.
“You know all that I know about him,” replied Clay. “He ran away from us following the visit to the boat of the bank cashier and two friends.”
“Yes, I heard about that,” said the officer. “Now, will you be good enough to tell me if you have seen him since that night?”
“We have not, except that he returned to the Rambler during the dark hours and restored something he had taken away from her.”
“Are you sure it was the boy who came back with the leather bag?” asked the sheriff, with a most exasperating laugh. “Are you sure it was the boy?”