"Nary a bit," answered the old miner. "It's jest th' same as it was. There it is," and he spread a crinkled sheet of tough parchment in front of Tom. It was covered with a rude drawing, and with names of places scrawled on it.
"So that's the map, eh?" murmured Tom, eagerly scanning it.
"That's it, an' here's th' valley of gold," went on Abe, as he placed one rough finger on a certain spot. "Right there—hello!" he cried, as he peered more closely at the parchment. "That ink spot wasn't there when I had th' map, a few hours ago."
"What ink spot?" asked Tom, anxiously.
"That one," and the miner indicated a small one near the edge of the map. "That was never there!"
"It looks as if it was recently made," added Mr. Swift, who was something of a chemist.
"An ink spot-freshly made," murmured Tom, "Dad—Abe, I can guess what's happened!"
"What?" demanded the miner.
"Andy Foger made a copy of this map while it was in his possession, and now he knows where the valley of gold is as well as we do! He may get there ahead of us!"