Phil, after some cogitation, gave back the papers to Paul, saying:
“Let’s sleep on it, Paul. You can’t get anything out of them now. In the morning we will go into it again.”
In the early morning Billy, who had some advantage over the rest in point of sleep, was up first, and was presently whanging the others with his pillow in a way that bade little for further slumbers on their part.
“G’way! get out!” cried Paul, feeling less interest just then in treasure hunting than in securing a few more winks before the inevitable bell for breakfast rang forth. “Remember how you acted last night when we wanted you to sit up and talk!”
As for Dave, the last to be thus treated by the now wakeful Worth, he grunted, groaned, finally heaving his own pillow at Billy who, dodging the same, renewed his offensive tactics to such effect that MacLester presently sprang forth from beside the now dozing Paul and grumblingly proceeded to dress.
“Dave,” began Phil, “I got something to tell you and Billy that I want you to listen to until you get the thing firmly inside your thinkers. Then, if you are interested, we’ll wake up Paul for good and you can look at what he’s got to show you. He showed it to me last night, after we tried to get you two to wake up enough to get the facts fairly through your noddles.”
“‘Things’ and ‘noddles’!” This from Billy, tossing his much abused pillow on the bed. “Why don’t you get busy and talk sense? What you got to show us anyhow? As for Paul, he—he’s a—”
“He is, is he?” Paul, thus exclaiming, suddenly sat up and discharged his own pillow at Billy, but only managed to hit Phil. “I didn’t mean you, Phil. I’ve been awake for about half a minute, and I know what you’re up to, Phil. Go for ’em, while I dig up the documents.”
While Phil was relating the substance of what Paul told him and what the two papers revealed, MacLester sniffed suspiciously and gradually assumed his customary expression when doubtful opinions were being aired, apparently for his own benefit. While Phil was talking, Paul had extracted the crumpled printed scrap, evidently clipped from some long forgotten town weekly, and the mysterious pencillings on the mussed envelope.
One after the other Dave and Billy examined both the printed clipping and the soiled, misused envelope on which were sundry drawings in pencil. Finally Dave sniffed suspiciously.