Nels gave a sheepish nod of assent.
"Well, it's something big to have apprehended this fellow. Before we are through with him I dare say we will know where that stolen money is."
Mr. Beckley spoke with grim purpose which, however, did not belie his apparent disappointment that the stolen twenty thousand dollars was not forthcoming, or at least some knowledge gained as to its present whereabouts.
Here Chip Slider, reclining against Link Fraley, who was still solicitously supporting the boy's dizzy head, blinked and strove to raise himself. Clearing his throat, he asked in a shaky voice:
"Is it the money they want to know about?" This, apparently, to Link.
"Why, yes, boy! We've got hands on the thief," meaning Murky. "But what Mr. Beckley wants to know now, is what's become of the swag, the boodle, the stuff Murky stole. He won't tell, and you chaps don't seem to know."
"Yes, we do!" replied Chip unexpectedly. Then he sat up unaided.
"What do you mean, my lad?" queried Beckley, a quizzical smile on his face for he had not fully determined the reason of Chip's being here except in a casually superfluous way.
"I mean that–" glancing at Paul and Nels, "–that we know where the money is. At least it looks like the money and Murky seemed mighty anxious to get his paws on it."
Giving little heed to the wonder in the faces of the Swede and Jones, the boy tried to get to his feet. "Help me up, please. I'll be all right in a minute. There! Now if you will all go with me, I'll show you what I mean."