It was empty!
CHAPTER XXVIII—THIS IS BRENT’S SUGGESTION
Tom laid the board reverently over it. My head was aching and Brent make a queer gurgling noise in his throat.
We picked up our things and started back to Camp.
“That board,” Tom said, listlessly, “is the one that Heinie tried his paints out on. He told me he laid it up against the eats shack, night before last. It was gone in the morning, so I had to hunt him up another board.”
“It’s all too ghastly to talk of,” I said. “I feel I can’t stand many more horrifying disclosures.”
“We all feel that way,” Brent said, “and that’s all the more reason why we ought to get at the bottom of this before anything else happens.”
“How?” I asked.
“And why not?” Tom put in. “Sometimes it’s these deep mysteries that are the simplest ones to solve. We can only try.”
“Carry on, my boy,” I said, encouragingly. “I’m afraid I can’t.”