They nodded and he continued the little more he had to tell.
“That was like Margery,” Tom said, referring to his lost sister. “She used to play nurse to her dolls and say she was going to grow up to be a nurse and cure people, and she was always asking questions about how doctors made people well, and how people ought to do to keep well. My sister was the smartest girl of ten I ever saw, and awfully grown up for her age.”
“We’ll find her,” declared Nicky.
“Well,” Jack completed his story. “All I recall is that Mort said one morning he woke up to find the little girl was gone——”
“Gone!” chorused the chums.
“Made away with,” Jack nodded. “Mort didn’t know where. Seems maybe the other Indians heard about her curing folks and wanted to be doctored—or maybe they made her like a goddess or something!”
“The inland Indians must have heard of her and taken her,” Bill suggested. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“Anyhow, as Mort said, between his weeping, it was hard on him, after he had took such good care of her and been so careful—because now he’d never be able to get hold of the Golden Sun mine—”
“The Golden Sun mine!” cried Tom. “Did she have papers or anything, did he say—was she the owner of the mine?—did my dad discover a mine and give her the papers?”
Jack shook his head.