  Factor Scott decided that he would not prefer charges against the two Indians until he had definitely discovered what they had stolen. But in the days that passed, to his increasing astonishment, he could find nothing missing. What had the two prowlers taken from the cellar? It was a question that was threshed over, pro and con, for many an hour. In Sandy’s opinion, the solution to the mystery was to be found in only one way: namely, that Factor Scott had taken a hurried inventory a few days previous to the robbery and that there were more cases of liquor in the cellar than he had on record. “He can say what he likes,” insisted Sandy. “There is the real solution. Those two Indians wanted fire-water and they broke in and got it.” However, when Dick reported this theory to the factor, Mr. Scott had a good laugh over it. “It wasn’t liquor,” he smiled, “you can tell Sandy for me. Even if I did make a mistake in my reckoning, I insist that it wasn’t bottles of rum that the Indians stole.” “How do you know that?” asked Dick. “It’s all very simple. If the Indians had stolen liquor they would have proceeded to get gloriously drunk. They wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation. I know Indian nature well enough for that.” “You’re quite right.” laughed Dick. “We’ll eliminate such an hypothesis. Now what I’d like to know is, what did they steal out of that cellar?” The factor bit his lips. “I confess that I don’t know. Every day for the past three weeks I’ve gone to the cellar and, if there was anything there beside those empty packing boxes, the cases of liquor and wrapping paper, I’d have seen it. If it wasn’t for the evidence of the broken lock on the trading room door, I’d be very much inclined to believe that you have been the victim of a nightmare or an hallucination.” “And I wouldn’t blame you in the least,” stated Dick smiling. “However, as you say, that broken lock is pretty conclusive evidence of a forced entrance. Of course, you have only my word as to the rest of the story.” “I wouldn’t doubt you, Dick,” the factor patted his shoulder. “I know you’re sincere and truthful about this. I really believe that you saw the two Indians come up from the cellar carrying those two loaded burlap sacks. By the way, Dick, if those had contained bottles you’d have heard the rattle.” “That’s true. No sound came from the sacks.” Dick paused and stroked his chin reflectively. “Pshaw! We don’t seem to be getting anywhere. Mr. Scott, will you give me permission to go down into that cellar and examine it carefully? I just want to satisfy myself that we haven’t overlooked anything.” “Certainly. I’d be glad to have you. I’ve been down there myself a number of times since the robbery. I’ve gone over every foot of space and found nothing at all suspicious; found nothing that might give me a clue to what the Mekewai brothers stole. But though I searched carefully, I might have overlooked something. Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Go down and look for yourself.” Dick went down. He lighted the candle that was always to be found on the shelf near the bottom of the stairway, and explored every inch of space in that dark interior. The floor of the cellar was constructed of heavy planks nailed to logs which had been sunk into the earth. In a country where cement was almost unknown, it was as good a flooring for a basement as could be found anywhere. Starting at one end of the cellar, Dick examined every plank in the floor. The planks had been in the cellar for a long time and they made a clattering noise as he walked over them. This suggested an idea. He wondered if any of the planks were loose. He went up to the trading room, procured a heavy chisel and returned and tried to pry up the planks. The eighth plank over from the bottom of the stairway, to his great glee, he discovered was loose. It came up when he exerted a slight pressure upon it. Grasping the plank next to it, he found that that also was loose. Pulling up this second board he received a rude shock. The edge of a gaping hole, freshly dug in the earth, was visible there under the planking. Removing another section of the floor, he completely uncovered it. Reaching out for the candle, he explored the shallow pit below. The hole was about three feet wide, six feet long and three feet deep. The dirt taken from it had been thrown under the planking between the logs used as support for the floor. The pit was absolutely empty. Dick’s first impulse was to return to the trading room and report his discovery to Mr. Scott. But on second thought he decided not to do this. He would work on the case alone, not even saying anything to Sandy and Toma. He would find out what the Indians had taken out of that pit. When he did, something told him that he would have a clear case against Frazer. He replaced the flooring hurriedly, scraped dust over the loose planks and ascended to the room above. Busy waiting on a number of customers, the factor did not accost him. Dick proceeded straight outside and sat down on the long bench to think it over. In a few minutes he came to a decision. He got quickly to his feet, re-entered the trading room and made his way upstairs to the loft. From among his personal belongings he picked up a small black automatic, thrust it in his hip pocket and again made his way outside. The first person he saw was Toma. “Where you go, Dick, in so big hurry?” the young Indian asked. Previously, when he had made his plans, Dick had decided to play a lone hand, but now it would be a little awkward getting rid of Toma. Well it would do no harm in taking him along. Toma was close-mouthed and dependable. He might prove to be of valuable assistance in an emergency. “I’m going down to see those two Indians,” Dick informed him. “Care to come along?” “Yes,” grunted his chum. Dick took him by the arm. “Come along then,” he said. Together they hurried along the foot trail in the direction of the river. Passing the warehouse, a voice called out lustily. “Hey there!” It was Sandy. Dick and Toma paused while the third member of the trio shambled up. “Where are you fellows going?” Sandy inquired suspiciously. Dick gave up. He could see how impossible it was now to keep anything from two friends like these. Then and there he confessed. Both Sandy and Toma were astonished at the outcome of Dick’s investigations. “A hole under the floor of the cellar!” Sandy exclaimed. “Good Heavens, what do you suppose Factor Frazer has been concealing there?” “I don’t know but I have a hunch,” Dick answered, proud of the impression he had made. “Tell us,” pleaded Sandy. “I haven’t time just now. I’m anxious to get over to the Mekewai brothers’ tepee to have a look around. There’s a remote chance that we’ll find those two sacks of loot.” Sandy balked. “If we’re going over there,” he said, “I want a gun.” “I have one,” Dick patted his hip pocket. “Anyway I don’t think they’ll have the courage to attack us in broad daylight. Hurry if you’re coming.” They followed Dick down the path to the river, then along the shore to the Mekewai tepee. His two chums crowding close behind him, Dick knocked gently against the closed flap. “Hello! Hello!” he called. They heard subdued voices within. The flap was drawn aside and the Mekewai boys stooped down and peered at them through the entrance. “What you want?” one of them asked gruffly. “Came over to see if you could lend us a canoe so that we can go fishing,” lied Dick. “Our own is damaged and we are having it repaired.” “No have canoe,” growled one of the Mekewai boys. But Dick was not put off so easily. “Do you know anyone that has?” “Come in,” one of the Indians invited, “an’ I try think where mebbe you find one.” Dick pressed a coin in the hand of each of the two brothers. “Wish you could,” he said, stepping inside. One glance told Dick what he wanted to know. There were no sacks here. Nothing at all of an incriminating nature. Dick was tremendously disappointed and he could not resist turning his head and looking at Sandy. Sandy was amused. There was a twinkle in his eyes and the beginning of a smile puckering the corners of his mouth. “I think mebbe I know fellow that has canoe,” one of the Indians spoke up. “How much you like pay?” “We didn’t want to buy one,” stated Sandy, helping Dick out. “We wanted to borrow one.” “Don’t know anybody like ’em borrow you canoe.” “Thank you,” said Dick, backing toward the door. “In that case we’ll have to wait until our own is repaired.” The three boys went out, Dick scowling, Sandy and Toma amused over the interview. “Never mind, old chap,” consoled Sandy, “you may have better luck next time. By the way, what do you think they’ve done with the stuff?” “Don’t worry, they’ve either hidden it somewhere or have sent it over to Frazer. I hardly expected to find it there. There was about one chance in a thousand.” “Now that we’re on the subject,” coaxed Sandy, “Perhaps you’ll be willing to tell me what your hunch is. What did those two Indians bring up out of that pit?” “Gold,” came the answer unhesitatingly. Sandy looked dubious. “What makes you think it was gold?” “I’ll tell you why. If you recall the conversation between your Uncle Walter and Frazer the day we had the trouble in the trading room, you will remember that Frazer said that he had paid the shortage in gold. That’s the only reason I have for suspecting that it was gold that the Indians took out of the cellar. If Frazer had two thousand dollars worth of gold, sufficient to cover his shortage, it is not unlikely that he had more of it stored away somewhere. Frazer did not explain satisfactorily to your uncle how he had obtained that gold. The inference is that he stole it.” “Seems reasonable,” said Sandy, “and I wonder from whom.” |
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