“Didn’t I?” repeated Vic. “I guess I did; and so did Bill’s folks. They found out where Bill had shown off some tricks with the camels at a tavern. Three strange men who had been drinking with him went off when he did. I suppose we had as many as twenty people looking for the camels all over the country.”
“And you found no trace of them?” inquired Frank.
“Hide nor hair—none,” was the dejected answer.
“It looks queer to me, that does,” asserted Pep. “Four camels are too conspicuous to drop out of sight like a horse or a dog.”
“I think somebody stole them—I feel sure of it,” declared Vic. “Maybe Bill got to talking too much and telling all about the camels, and those three men thought they saw a chance for a speculation.”
“They couldn’t hide the animals very easily,” observed Frank. “Whoever has them must be at some distance from Wardham.”
“That’s the way I figure it out,” agreed Vic. “It’s made me almost frantic, losing those animals and all they mean to me in a money way. And poor Bill—he needs his share in them just now worse than he ever did.”
“I see that,” said Frank, thoughtfully, “and I shall try to get a man right on the track. Don’t be so downhearted, Vic; we are sure to get some trace of them.”
“I hope so,” replied Vic, shaking his head dolefully. “You see, I had pretty high hopes of the money I expected. I might have gone in with you—see?”
“You’re in with us now, Vic,” declared Frank in his friendly way. “You put us under a great obligation by saving the Standard from burning up. Here, Randy,” added Frank, calling to his chum, “you try and make Vic see something cheerful in life till I get back.”