“Oh, you fellows were so sure you knew your own business that I didn’t want to butt in,” went on the pitcher. “But, boys, what do you think of that?” and he indicated the card and silk.
“It’s the same material,” spoke Frank after a bit, as he compared the shreds Tom had pulled from the window-sill of the shack on the island, with the torn strip found near the looted jewelry box.
“And what would you say if I told you that Bossy had a handkerchief of that same pattern, with a strip torn off?” asked Tom, slowly.
“Has he?” asked Frank, looking sharply at his chum.
“He has.”
“Then, by crimps! He’s the fellow who has the cups and jewelry!” cried Sid.
“Go easy,” advised Phil. “That’s the worst of you—always jumping to conclusions.”
“And why shouldn’t I, when I can land on ’em as easily as I can on this one? Isn’t it as plain as can be?”
“Not altogether. We’d make fine specimens of ourselves if we went and accused him on this evidence. You say, Tom, that you found this card near the Mexican’s shack?”
“Yes. And the shreds of silk there, too. It looks to me as if Bossy had been there to buy a handkerchief. Two of ’em, if we’re to believe him. The Mexican probably has them as well as his ‘push-work’ as he calls it,” and he told all the circumstances of the visit to the island, omitting only the search for Ruth’s brooch.