"You didn't get us in at all," declared Dick. "I'd have run into this soft stretch as soon as you. Knock off and we'll eat."
The rest was welcome. As the sun began to set they looked over toward the distant railroad, the rails of which could be seen glittering in the fading light. Something not far off stirred in a faint breeze.
"What's that?" asked Paul.
"Part of a newspaper," said Dick, as he caught sight of it. "Probably some passenger tossed it out of a car window. I'm going to have a look at it. Maybe it isn't more than a month old, and there'll be something in it to read. The next time I come touring I'm going to bring along part of a library."
He strolled toward the fragment of paper, which was held down by a little mound of shifting sand. Paul and Innis were getting the meal ready. Suddenly they were startled by a cry from Dick. He was staring at the paper.
"What's the matter?" asked Paul.
"Matter, fellows! Look here! If this isn't bad news I don't know what is."
"Somebody dead you know?" inquired Innis.
"No, but this paper is only two days old. It must have been tossed away to-day. And it's got something in it about that railroad in which Wardell's fortune is tied up."
"What is it?" demanded Paul.