"At sea, I believe."
"At sea?"
"Yes, he was mixed up in some South American revolution, I heard."
"A South American revolution!" exclaimed Tom, and a great light came to him.
"Yes," went on Mary's uncle. "He was always that kind—mixing up in anything he thought would produce money. He didn't make out very well in the revolution business, so I understood. The revolutionary party was beaten, or they lost their shipment of arms, or something like that. At any rate, Dixwell Hardley had a narrow escape with his life when a ship went down, and from then on I've been trying to get him to restore my rights to me."
"Did he have the papers that would prove you were entitled to a half share in the oil wells?" asked Tom.
"He certainly did!" said the sick man, who was obviously being weakened by this long and exhausting talk. "At first I was not sure of what happened, but now I am positive he stole the papers and took them to sea with him. What happened to them after that I don't know. But if I had Dixwell Hardley here—now—I—I'd—"
Mr. Keith fell back in a faint on the bed, and, in great alarm, Tom summoned the nurse.