He had come there with the idea that possibly he might catch sight of something which would prove that the burglary had been performed by one of their number. He had scarcely expected to find them seated in a circle dividing the spoils, but it had not seemed impossible that he might discover a telltale can of peaches or a side of bacon. But now, search as he did, not one speck of incriminating evidence could he see. The only course remaining, then, was to retrace his steps through the woods and approach the camp openly by the road. Perhaps, if he made believe that he had lost his way and asked them to set him right, he might get an opportunity to look around the camp and possibly see inside one or two of the tents. He might even buy a basket or two. But, on the point of creeping away, a new plan occurred to him, a plan which engaged his ardor because of its sheer recklessness.
The nearest tent was about thirty feet from where he lay, its back toward him. No sounds came from it, but he couldn’t be sure that it was unoccupied, for all of that. Yet, somehow, he believed that it was. It seemed fair to assume that the three men in sight were the only ones left in camp; that the others were away, peddling, dickering for horses, fishing. Surely no one would remain in a stuffy tent a hot day like this, he thought. By creeping a few yards to the left he would have the tent between him and the Gipsies, unless some of the children, who were fairly quiet under the effects of the heat, should take it into their heads to roam his way. But that was a risk he could afford to take, he decided. Once at the back of the tent, he could easily raise the canvas and look in. It might be that he would discover nothing for his pains, but, on the other hand, he might find a good deal.
Leaving his rod and the fish under the bush and mentally locating it so that he could recover them later on, he crept back and made a detour of a dozen yards toward the road. When he again reached the edge of the clearing, the tent was in front of him and the Gipsies out of sight. Pausing a moment to rest, for creeping on hands and knees is breath-taking work, he slid stealthily from cover and crept toward the tent. He didn’t pause to listen, for the sooner he was behind the tent the sooner he would be well hidden. But when he crouched against the soiled canvas he paused and harkened intently, his heart pounding against his ribs like a hammer. Only the murmuring of voices reached him, however, and he breathed easier.
Putting his head down, he peered under the edge of the canvas, and his heart gave a throb of triumph, for there, not a foot from his nose, were a dozen or more of the stolen cans!
They were piled on the ground at the back of the tent, the corner of a yellow horse-blanket half covering them. Chub squirmed until his head and shoulders were inside the tent, and reached forward. Beyond the cans were two of the strips of bacon, wedged in between them and a bale of hay. Not a sound came from the tent. Noiselessly Chub drew the rest of his body inside and peered around the corner of the bale. The tent was empty. Three beds composed of narrow straw-filled ticks were in sight, a small old-fashioned trunk, cooking utensils, some clothes swinging from the ridge-pole, a couple of empty boxes on top of one of which lay a pack of dirty playing-cards and a pile of harness. Chub smiled his satisfaction and then pondered his next step. If the stolen groceries were here it was plausible to suppose that the money was here, too. Of course it might be in the thief’s pocket, but Chub didn’t believe that Gipsies were in the habit of carrying much money around with them. If only he knew where to look!
The flap of the tent was open, and through the opening he could see the woman with the baby, and two of the children rolling about on the grass. If, he thought, he could only close the flap! Then he saw a way of accomplishing that result. By keeping close to the side of the tent on the right he would be out of sight of the Gipsies and could creep around and loosen the flap. So he dodged back behind the bale of hay to the farther wall of the tent, and crept along it until he could reach the flap. It fell into place, cutting off the shaft of hot sunlight that had flooded the front of the tent. As it fell, he dropped to the ground and peeked out under the bottom to see if it had been noticed. But, save that one of the men had got to his feet and was standing yawning and stretching, the inhabitants of the camp were much as he had seen them last. He waited and watched until the yawning man had stretched himself out in the shade and pillowed his face in his arms.
