The opiate acted in a beneficial manner, for his system was so weakened that it set him into a deep sleep, which lasted for a number of hours; and before he had awakened we had removed him to a little room that we had partitioned off from the main store, where he could be free from most of the noise and confusion that large sales occasioned.
About sunrise, the first person that entered the store was the old man's nephew, Follet. He looked agitated and alarmed, and shuddered when he saw the stains of blood upon the doorstep, and also on the floor of the store where we had rested the old man before putting him on the mattress. He did not raise his eyes to our faces, although many times I endeavored to get a fair glance at his face, to see if I could read his thoughts.
"I have bad news this morning," he said, at length, finding we were not disposed to open the conversation.
"Have you, indeed?" asked Fred, with a slight sneer.
"I slept from my uncle's tent last night," he went on to say, "and upon returning this morning I find that there has been violence and robbery committed. My poor relative is missing, and I fear murdered, for his bed is bloody, and tracks of blood are to be seen on the ground."
"And in regard to the robbery," Fred asked, "how do you know that he has lost any thing?"
"O, I am positive on that score, because my uncle had about a thousand ounces of gold, in nuggets and fine dust, buried under one corner of his tent, and the treasure is gone," cried Follet, eagerly.
"You are certain of that, I suppose?" Fred asked.
"O, quite certain, because the gold is the first thing that I thought of when I found that my uncle had been murdered," exclaimed the young fellow, with his eyes still cast to the floor.
"Do you suspect any one?" we asked, with a design to bring him out.