“I’m anxious about that boy,” Will broke in.  “I wish he’d come back!”

“Yes, this isn’t a very desirable country to be lost in in the night!” Tommy admitted.  “He ought not to have gone away.”

“What do you make of this gink prowling around our tent?” asked Sandy.  “Do you think he’s doing it out of curiosity, or because he has an inkling of what we’re up here after?”

“Huh!  How would any one away off up here know anything about the Little Brass God?” demanded Tommy.

“Look here,” Will argued.  “The Little Brass God is stolen from this house on Drexel Boulevard.  Enclosed in a cavity in the toy is a will disposing of several million dollars worth of property.  The Little Brass God is finally sold to a pawn-broker, who in turn disposes of it to a trapper known to belong in the Hudson Bay district.”

“That’s a fair statement,” answered Tommy.

“Now, Mr. Horton, attorney for the man who is in quest of the lost will, and Sigsbee, the man interested in probating the previous will, both know of the final disposition of the Little Brass God.  At least, Frederick Tupper knows that it was taken from the pawn shop by a Hudson Bay trapper, and it is believed that Sigsbee possesses the same information.”

“Of course, they both know about it,” agreed Sandy.

“Now, why shouldn’t they both send people up here in quest of the Little Brass God?” Will continued.

“But suppose this man Sigsbee doesn’t know anything about the will being in the belly of the Little Brass God?” suggested Tommy.

“We believe he does know all about it!” said Will.

“And do you believe, too, that he hired a burglar to go and steal the Little Brass God?” asked Sandy.

“As I said before,” Will answered, “we don’t know anything about that.  The Little Brass God may have been taken by a burglar who was simply in quest of plunder.  The whole thing resolves itself into this:  If the really, truly burglar stole the toy and sold it to the pawn-broker, the will is in the ugly little chap’s belly.  If Sigsbee hired the burglar he took the will out before the trinket was sold at the pawn-shop.  In that case, he would be the last one to send an expedition up here to retrieve the toy.  And so you see,” Will continued, “that we don’t know anything about it.”

“Well it’s funny that gink should come prowling around our tents on the first night of our arrival!” Tommy exclaimed.  “According to all accounts, he should have come sneaking into camp looking for a drink of brandy.  The fact that he ran away when discovered shows that he wasn’t here for any honest purpose.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” demanded Sandy.  “Let’s give the Little Brass God a rest long enough to make up our minds about George.”

“We can’t do anything until morning,” Will interposed.

“How do you know we can’t?” demanded Tommy.

“Because it’s dark, and because we know nothing about the country,” replied Will.