“Maybe,” Alf said without much hope. “But let’s not stick around here any longer.”
“Let’s not,” Jimmy agreed. “I vote we go back to camp and tell Pat what we have discovered. He pooh-poohs the idea of buried treasure as much as Phil and Penny do, but when he hears that the footprints match, maybe he’ll take the whole business more seriously.”
“I think,” Brook said, “that we ought to convince him at least that we should go home right away. I’d rather dig for gold than fish, wouldn’t you?”
Jimmy arched his dark eyebrows with surprise. “And you were the guy who was complaining a while ago that I’m a slavedriver!”
Back at camp Pat listened soberly when Jimmy told him that the man who had left his footprint under the shed floor had left other footprints recently in the clearing on the peninsula.
“Are you sure, lad?” Pat demanded.
Jimmy nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence to think that someone else with the same rubber heels had something to do with this piece of paper which looks like it was torn from the one Marjorie found.”
“You’re right,” Pat said. “Let’s head for home at once!”