with ashes, drove up at a trot.

"Well, well!" he cried. "We've been worried about you all. Staretta's
gone wild over this fire. Worried about the Andersons and the Auto Boys;
and I'm more worried about what I saw on the way here."

"What do you mean by that last?" asked Mr. Beckley, who was quick to hear
the unusual note in this final remark by Fraley. "What did you see?"

"I ain't certain; but I'm almost sure I saw that scowling fellow we
called Murky. I didn't get but a glimpse. 'Twas a mile or so back, where
the half burnt logs was piled up thicker than usual near the trail. Before
I could stop my team he was gone. No use to foller; besides, I was in a
hurry to get on to where the camp was, hoping I'd find you folks all
right."

Link's news occasioned somewhat of a flutter among the weary party thus
gathered at the ruins of what had once been the Auto Boys' camp. After
some discussion, while Chip and Worth were roasting potatoes and preparing
hot coffee, it was determined that, after eating, they would return with
Fraley to Staretta and sleep in warm beds once more. After that plans
might be made for investigating what Link had seen on the way over.

They hastened their meal and then, all climbing into the wagon, they
started back. Probably a mile further on Fraley pointed at a confused
tangle of fallen trees and logs which the fire had partially consumed, yet
left in such profusion as to form a sooty labyrinth where a fugitive
might easily escape unseen in that growing twilight. By now the moon
was shining, for the rain had long passed. Link stopped the wagon and was
pointing out where he had caught this flying glimpse. He was about to
start on again when Phil Way, crouched at the wagon's tail-board, cried
out as he jumped off:

"Hold on a minute, Link! I think I see something!"

Mr. Beckley, beside him, had seen it too, for the moonlight made things
more distinct than when Fraley had passed an hour or so before. Beckley
also descended.

When he reached Phil, the boy was raising up a sooty, battered leather
suit-case with several holes burnt partially through its thick sides. A
wide flap was cut through the leather. It hung down as Phil held it up.
It was some larger than the other bag and Beckley instantly knew that he
was looking at the receptacle that had held the money.

Had held it, but now no longer.

"It's empty, Mr. Beckley. How did he come to leave it here?"

"Why, don't you see? Look at those