"Look here," uttered Chicot, lifting the cut sachel. "This is what the Dutchman kept his money in. He was a simple-hearted feller, like, an' didn't seem to think but that all was as honest as he was hisself, fer he showed us his money only two nights ago. We laughed at him, I 'member, fer kerryin' gold to Californey, but he wasn't goin' to dig. He went overland fer his health, and then was goin' to ship fer Chinese land, or some sech place, I b'lieve."
"Who was with you when he showed the money?"
"He was—Burr Wythe—an' a lot more," reluctantly added Chicot.
Mitchell looked sober. He had formed a high opinion of the young man, but he could no longer blind himself to the fact that suspicion pointed strongly toward young Wythe as the murderer. And he saw, too, that this belief was gradually gaining ground among the emigrants, and deep whispers ran round, while eyes flashed and brows grew black. The spirit of Lynch-law was rapidly arising, and woe be unto the victim that should first feel its power!
"Easy, men," he shouted, waving his hand. "Keep silent for a moment and listen to me. There must be no mad action here. We must proceed carefully and justly. First, you must elect a leader, whose word shall be law; then we must hunt up the missing men and hear their defense. That one murder has been committed is no reason that another should follow. I cast my vote for a fair trial."
"So we all do, I reckon," chimed in Paul Chicot. "An' I don't know any better man for Judge Lynch than you be. What say, boys?"
"Good—good!" came an almost unanimous shout; but Nathan Upshur was silent.
"Very well; I will act as such, since you demand it. And I am glad, for one thing. After what I have already spoken, it shows that you aim at strict and impartial justice. But now to work. If they have really abandoned the train—as of course they have, if they did kill Hefler—they must have taken food and other articles that would be missed. And a close search may give us the clue. You know the messes they belonged to; go and search closely. Chicot, come with me. I wish a word with you."
Once fairly set to work, there was little time lost. In ten minutes the report was given. A small supply of provisions had been taken, and one pick-ax was missing; but that all believed to have been mislaid somewhere. No one—save Upshur—dreamed that the deserters had taken it.
Paul Chicot gave his supposition or conjecture concerning the course most likely to be followed by the deserters. He believed they would take to the neighboring mountains, there to lie hidden until all search was given over. They would not be likely to take the back-trail, as they were afoot, and the country in that direction was mostly open and level.