“Kind of hard luck, isn’t it?” said Prawle, when he rejoined his companions, after more than an hour’s ineffectual search for a clew to Sanders’ present whereabouts.
“I should say it is,” replied Jack Howard. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to go back to Trinity in the morning and see what we can learn in that place. By the way, I heard there was another person trying to locate Sanders.”
“Otis Clymer!” exclaimed Jack and Charlie in a breath.
“No,” replied Prawle, shaking his head. “It was a big man, named Plunkett.”
“Plunkett!” shouted Charlie Fox, in a tone of astonishment. “Not Dave Plunkett?”
“I didn’t hear what his first name was. Do you know somebody by that name?”
“The cheap hotel where Otis Clymer lodged of late in Sackville is kept by a man named Dave Plunkett. I’ll bet Clymer has taken him into his confidence as a moneyed partner in this enterprise, and so that he himself can keep under cover as much as possible. He’s a cute rascal.”
“If that’s the case,” said Gideon Prawle, reflectively, “we’ve got our work cut out for us to beat the pair of them. Tell me what you know about this Plunkett.”
Charlie gave the prospector the history of Dave Plunkett’s operations in Sackville, so far as he knew, as well as his opinion of the man’s character.