“Oh, then you have had it since last night!” Tom ejaculated.

“Yes, I slept with it under my clothes that I rolled up for a pillow, and when it was my turn to stand guard I took it with me.  Then I put it back again and went to sleep.  When I awoke and dressed I put the packet in my pocket and ate breakfast.  Now when I look for it—­why, it’s gone!”

“The map or the oiled-silk package?” asked Mr. Damon, who, once having been a businessman, was sometimes a stickler for small points.

“Both,” answered the professor.  “I opened the silk to tie it more smoothly, so it would not be such a lump in my pocket, and I made sure the map was inside.”

“Then the whole thing has been taken—­or you have lost it,” suggested Ned.

“I am not in the habit of losing valuable maps,” retorted the scientist.  “And the pocket of my coat I had made deep, for the purpose of carrying the long map.  It could not drop out.”

“Well, we mustn’t overlook any possible chances,” suggested Tom.  “Come on now, we’ll search every inch of the ground over which you traveled this morning, Professor.”

“It must be found,” murmured the scientist.  “Without it all our work will go for naught.”

They all went into the tent where the professor and Mr. Damon had slept when they were not on guard.  The camp was a busy place, with the Indians finishing their morning meal, and getting ready for the work of the day.  For word had been given out that there would be no more long periods of travel.

In consequence, efforts were being directed by the head men of the bearers to making a more permanent camp in the wilderness.  Shelters of palm-thatched huts were being built, a site for cooking fires made, and, at the direction of Mr. Damon, to whom this part was entrusted, some sanitary regulations were insisted on.

Leaving this busy scene, the four, with solemn faces, proceeded to the tent where it was hoped the map would be found.  But though they went through everything, and traced and retraced every place the professor could remember having traversed about the canvas shelter, no signs of the important document could be found.

“I don’t believe I dropped it out of my pocket,” said the scientist, for perhaps the twentieth time.

“Then it was taken,” declared Tom.

“That’s what I say!” chimed in Ned. 
“And by some of Beecher’s party!”

“Easy, my boy,” cautioned Mr. Damon.  “We don’t want to make accusations we can’t prove.”

“That is true,” agreed Professor Bumper.  “But, though I am sorry to say it of a fellow archaelogist, I can not help thinking Beecher had something to do with the taking of my map.”

“But how could any of them get it?” asked Mr. Damon.  “You say you had the map this morning, and certainly none of them has been in our camp since dawn, though of course it is possible that some of them sneaked in during the night.”