But he had no idea that the man did have the papers. He had already searched the scoundrel too thoroughly to have missed any hiding place for the deeds his father had entrusted to him. Chet felt very bad indeed.
“I tell you boys—and you might as well understand me,” said the man, Steve, threateningly, “I haven’t got those deeds. I’ve dropped ’em somewhere and I don’t know where. Back where we camped at noon, maybe. That’s straight.”
“Let’s look around the camp here,” proposed Dig, knowing how unhappy his chum felt, and wishing to help.
He threw an armful of light wood on the fire and the blaze sprang up immediately, illuminating the clearing more fully. Already Dig had collected their possessions into a heap. He found every article they had missed.
Searching the camp did no good, however. As Dig said, they did not leave a leaf unturned. But the deeds were not to be found. Their size and the stiffness of the legal paper on which they were written would have made it impossible for Steve to have hidden the documents in any small space. Supposing he had doubted the honesty of Tony (which he well might) Steve may have thought of hiding the papers before he went to sleep. But where?
The boys almost tore his saddle to pieces looking for the documents. They pulled off his boots and made sure the papers were not in his socks. When they got through their final search they were convinced that the deeds were not on either man or anywhere about the camp.
“What do you think, Chet?” asked Dig, in a low tone. “Is the fellow telling the truth?”
“I am inclined to believe he is,” Chet returned, with a sigh. “It’s a tough proposition. I feel dreadfully bad about it. What will father say?”
“But, Chet! He can’t blame us.”
“He’ll blame me. And why shouldn’t he? He entrusted me with the deeds and I had no business to lose them.”