They found Devaux somewhat recovered but the man was still trembling.
Tom went up to him and took hold of his arm. “Looky here, son, you been boozing.” It was an accusation and not a question, and the Frenchman immediately straightened up.
“That one beeg lie,” he said firmly.
That settled the matter in Tom’s mind in so far as the drinking was concerned. No man in the outfit would dare to call Tom Bean a liar unless he had a mighty good reason for it, and Tom was well aware of the fact.
“You smell breath, you no believe,” the man insisted.
“No, Devaux, yer word’s all I want. If ye say as how ye ain’t touched any hooch, sure an’ thot settles it, but,” and he drew him to one side so that no one should hear, “take me advice an’ kape it ter yerself about what yer thought yer sawed,” and as Devaux nodded his head in silent assent, he left the room, motioning for the boys to follow him.
“He saw it all right,” Tom declared, as soon as they were by themselves in the office. “But the byes won’t take much stock in it I gess, seeing as how Devaux is a kind of a joke with ’em, but, byes, we got ter git busy an’ put a stop ter thot thing or there’ll be the dickins ter pay.”
“Let’s go see if we can find any tracks,” Jack proposed.
“Sure an’ we’ll do thot same, but we’d best wait till after the men are aslape. ’Twon’t do ter let ’em know thot we’re taking iny stock in what the lad said.”
The boys were quick to see the wisdom of his statement and so they waited until ten o’clock, Jack deeply immersed in a book and the other two playing checkers, a game of which they were both very fond.