"Vat a luck it iss!" growled Carl, holding one hand to his face, where it had been cut by a piece of glass. "I got pack here so kevick as I couldt, Miss Eliza, aber dot Prisco feller was kevicker as me. Donnervetter! Matt, ve come oudt to look for dot poy und ve lose der pox! Dot vill be some nice t'ings to dell Legree."
"Oh," cried the girl, half-crying; "I shouldn't have come! Even if it was all right for me to come I ought to have left the box at the hotel. Now we'll never be able to get our money from Brisco!"
Matt slowed down the car and took a look rearward. The three men were out of sight beyond the turn.
"Don't worry about it, Eliza," said Matt. "If any one is to blame, I'm the one. There's something queer about that tin box. If it's so valuable, why didn't Legree take care of it himself? Why did he trust it to you?"
"Before I had it," returned the girl, "Uncle Tom was carrying it. He lost it in the river, and had to jump in after it."
"More carelessness on Legree's part! Uncle Tom, as I figure it, is about the most irresponsible member of your party, and yet Legree allowed him to carry a box which, Brisco had said, was worth ten thousand dollars. It don't look reasonable to me."
"Dot's vat it don'd!" exclaimed Carl. "Aber Prisco vanted dot pox pooty pad to go afder it like vat he dit. Meppy it vas vort' a lod to him, und nodding to Legree and der rest oof der parn-shtormers."
"Just because it was valuable to Brisco is the very reason I should have been more careful with it," went on the girl. "We might have made him pay us what he owed us, and then we could all have gone back to Denver. Now—now——"
The girl began to cry.