When the last paper had been exposed to their gaze and the pocketbook shook out, they sat back in their chairs and stared blankly at each other.
CHAPTER XIV.
PUT ON THEIR GUARD.
The saloonkeeper was the first to recover from the general disappointment.
“Well, gents, it appears the paper we expected to find in this pocketbook isn’t here at all. What are we goin’ to do about it?”
“The Chinaman has made a botch of the job,” said Clymer, furiously.
Coffey didn’t seem to take this view of the case.
“It’s my opinion, gents, that fellow Prawle, as you call him, was just a little mite too smart for us. I’m afraid, seein’ he knew you two were in a sweat over that claim, and might be expected to make some move after that document, that he went and deposited it in the bank at Trinity, where it naturally would be safe.”
“If he’s done that the game is up,” said Plunkett, with a look of intense chagrin. “I might as well make tracks for Sackville right away.”
“Pooh! Where’s your sand?” said Coffey, who didn’t wish to lose his new acquaintances while they had a dollar to spend on his premises. “Don’t get discouraged all at once. There’s more ways than one of killin’ a cat.”