hich his
muskrat pelts had fetched at the hardware store, had been lodged.

The pocket-book was gone!

Poor Darry shivered as if someone had struck him a blow.

Could he have lost it while upon the shore with Paul Singleton and had
the angry sound claimed it as passage money for having allowed a victim
to escape?

No, he recollected very distinctly feeling it there as he started from
the office of the lawyer, after learning that Mr. Quarles was away.

Then it must have fallen out during his struggles on the road, for
several times he had been on his back, with those "wildcats" clawing at
him.

Despite the chances of meeting them again, and having the struggle
renewed, he deliberately turned back and quickly ran to the spot where
there were plain evidences to be seen of the free-for-all fight.

How eagerly he searched every foot of that territory, his heart,
figuratively speaking, in his throat with anxiety. But as the minutes
passed and he realized the hopeless character of his hunt it seemed to
drop like lead into his shoes, the change was so great.

Then there remained only one solution of the mystery--one of those young
rascals must have inserted a hand in his coat while they were struggling
there on the road and stolen the pocket-book with its contents.

His heart seemed almost broken, and he even contemplated rushing after
them to renew the battle and tear the prize from their possession; but a
little thought caused him to understand how foolish such a move would
be, for he had no idea as to what quarter they could he heading for when
they left him, unless it might be that shack in the swamp, and it would
be rash indeed for him to go there alone.

He tried to pluck up courage enough to go home, basing all his hopes on
Paul, who had seemed so very kind, and ready to help him out.

Of course Mrs. Peake was astonished at his appearance, but the rising
anger vanished when she learned who had been the cause of his
misfortunes--at least it was turned in the direction of Jim Dilks, and
she vowed that before another day had passed she would swear out a
warrant for his arrest, and go personally to see that Hank Squires did
his duty.

Depressed in spirits Darry crept away to change his clothes for some
others she brought him, also once belonging to Joe.

Mrs. Peake advised that the muddy garments be hung up until they dried,
when by a vigorous brushing they might be restored to something like
their former con