The new factor’s eyes widened and he regarded Dick in some surprise.
“You saw them come out of their tepee?” he blurted. “What were you doing outside at this time of the night?”
“Oh, I assure you, I wasn’t up to any mischief,” smiled Dick. “Restless and couldn’t sleep. Thought that if I went out and walked around a while I could come back and get a little rest.”
The factor proceeded to dress.
“If you’ll wait just a minute,” he instructed, “we’ll go down and investigate. I shouldn’t wonder but what you are right about the liquor. That’s an Indian’s old trick. It’s a frequent occurrence. Don’t know why we keep the stuff. It’s only a temptation to many a poor devil who seems powerless to resist it.”
Mr. Scott continued to chat amiably while he pulled on his clothes. A few minutes later, he led the way to the basement. Reaching the bottom of the flight of stairs, he struck a match and lighted a candle that stood on a shelf. Dick following close behind him, he walked straight over to a pile of cases in the far corner, stooped down and began examining them carefully.
“I happen to know just how much there is here, so it won’t take long to determine the extent of our loss,” Mr. Scott pointed out.
Dick held the candle while the factor took inventory. At the end of five minutes he straightened up, looked at Dick searchingly, then bent down and made a second examination.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dick.
“Can’t understand it. It seems to be all here.”