"Me, I do not know, m'sieu. Ze hor-r-rible head! Ou, ai, I don't like zat to be here, but I plenty scare' to take heem away from ze P'tit Joujou."
"Well," and Matt turned away, "where's the chest? Take us to the chest, Rigolette."
The creole led the way to the stairs and up to the room on the first balcony.
"Here ees w'ere zey breeng ze chest," said he, "an' zere you see heem."
With the last words he stepped into the room and pointed.
The chest, with the lid thrown back, lay to one side of the room. Near it was the pile of sawdust. Dick, catching sight of something near the heap of sawdust, stepped forward and picked the object up.
"Carl's cap!" exclaimed Matt.
"Right-o!" returned Dick. "But why should the cap be here and not Carl? We're in deep waters, matey. Look at that raffle of cord on the floor. Some one's been tied, here, and slipped the lashings. Sink me, but it must have been Carl!"
Matt whirled on the creole.