"Well, if it is no one has said anything to me about it," objected Tom, at which the other laughed again.

"Why should they bother when it was seven against one, Tom?" argued Carl. "Why, the boys wouldn't dream of having any other leader than you!"

"But that doesn't seem quite fair, it ought to be talked over openly.

Why pick me out above every one else for that?"

"Because you've always been a leader among your schoolmates, Tom, that's why!" he was quickly, told. "You've got it in you to take the lead in every kind of sport known to boys. Baseball, football, hockey, athletics--tell me a single thing where you've had to play second fiddle to any other fellow. And it isn't because you want to push yourself either, but because you can go ahead."

"Well," said Tom, slowly and musingly, "it's mighty nice to know that the other boys like you, and if the fellows are bound to make me take the office of patrol leader I suppose I'll have to accept it."

"No one so well able to do the work as you are, Tom. But this has been a terribly long three weeks to me, I tell you."

"Now you're thinking that we haven't made a bit of progress about finding that stolen paper," suggested Tom, looking a little crest-fallen. "Both of us have tried from time to time to watch Dock after nights, but somehow we haven't had much success up to now."

"No," added Carl, with one of his heavy sighs, "if he has that paper hidden somewhere he's smart enough to keep away from his cache, so far as we've been able to find out."

"I don't believe he's come to any settlement with Amasa Culpepper as yet," Tom observed, with considerable positiveness.

"We think that, but we don't know for sure," ventured the less confident Carl. "If only I could glimpse the paper I'd have a big load lifted from my mind. And it cuts me to the quick to see poor mother trying to look cheerful when I come indoors, though I've noticed signs of tears on her cheeks several times."

"I've been thinking of some sort of scheme," began Tom, slowly.

"Good for you!" burst out Carl, delightedly. "Tell me what it is then; and can we start in to try it right away?"

"That depends on several conditions," explained the other. "First of all do you remember what that receipt made out by Mr. Culpepper looked like, Carl?"

"Do I? Why, it seems to me it must have been burned on my memory as though you'd take a red hot poker and make marks on the clean kitchen floor. When I shut my eyes nights and try to go to sleep it keeps dancing in front of me. Before I know what I'm doing I find myself grabbing out for it, and then I want to kick myself for being so foolish, when I know it's all just a silly bit of imagination."

"I'm glad you remember so well how it looked," remarked Tom, somewhat to the mystification of his companion.

"What has that got to do with your scheme?" he demanded, in perplexity.

"A whole lot," came the swift answer; "because I want you to get me up as close a copy of that receipt as you possibly can!"

"Whew! do you mean even to signing Mr. Culpepper's name at the end?"

asked Carl, whose breath had very nearly been taken away.

"Yes, even to that," he was told; "in fact the paper wouldn't be worth a pinch of salt in my little game if that signature were omitted. Do you think you could duplicate the receipt, Carl?"

"I am sure I could; but even now I'm groping in the dark, because for the life of me I can't see what you expect to do with it, Tom."

"Don't forget to crease it, to make it look as though it had been folded and opened ever so many times; yes, and soil the outside a little too, as if it had been carried in a boy's pocket along with a lot of other things like marbles or a top or something like that."

"But please explain what all this means," Carl pleaded.

"Listen!" replied the other, impressively, "and I'll tell you what my game is. It may work, and it may fall flat; a whole lot depends on circ.u.mstances, but there's no harm trying it out."

"Of course not; go on and tell me."

"In watching Dock when he didn't know it, we've learned considerable about his habits," continued Tom. "For one thing every single night he walks home along the river road here after delivering a package or two at certain houses. It seems to be a part of the programme. Well, some fine night we'll lie in wait for him about this spot; and on the road will be that duplicate of the paper which we believe he stole."

At that Carl became quite excited.

"Oh! now I see what your game it!" he cried; "and let me tell you I think it's as clever a trick as could be thought of. He'll pick up the paper, thinking it may be something worth while; and when he sees that it is the very receipt he thinks he has got safely hidden away somewhere, Dock will be so rattled that the first thing he does will be to hurry to find out whether it's been taken or not."

"That's the idea, Carl; and of course we'll follow him, so as to jump in the very minute he gets out the real doc.u.ment to compare them."

"Fine! fine, Tom! You are certainly the crackerjack when it comes to laying a trap to trip a scamp up. Why, he'll fall into that pit head over heels; and I do hope we can s.n.a.t.c.h the paper away from him before he has a chance to tear it up."

"We'll look out for that all right, you can depend on it," came the rea.s.suring remark from the other scout. "When will you get busy on that copy, Carl?"

"To-night, after the kids are in bed," Carl hastened to reply; "I wouldn't care to have them see what I was doing, though in this case I firmly believe it's all right."

"And if your mother wants to know, tell her," said Tom.

"I'd have to do that anyway," said Carl, without the least confusion or hesitation; "I always tell my mother everything that happens. She takes an interest in all my plans, and she's the dearest little mother a boy ever had. But she'll understand that it's only meant to be a trick to catch the thief."

"Then if you have it ready by to-morrow afternoon we might try how it works that same evening," Tom remarked.

"I wish the time was now, I'm getting so anxious to do something,"

sighed the second boy, as he again remembered how he had seen his mother force herself to appear cheerful when he came from school, though there were traces of tears on her cheeks, and her eyes looked red.

Soon after that the chums separated, as the afternoon was drawing near a close.

"I wish you luck with your work to-night, Carl," was what Tom called out in parting; "and if any one wants to know where we've been, be sure and tell them that so far as we've been able to find out the fishing promises to be mighty fine this spring, better than for years, if signs go for anything."

On the following day at noon when they walked home for lunch Carl showed his chum the paper. It had been carefully done, and even bore the marks of service in the way of numerous creases, and some soiled spots in the bargain.

Tom was loud in his praise.

"It certainly looks as if it had been carried in a boy's pocket for some time," he declared; "and it's up to you to say how close a copy the contents are to the original."

"I'm sure Amasa Culpepper would say it was his own crabbed handwriting to a fraction," Carl had no hesitation in a.s.serting. "And so far as that goes Dock Phillips isn't capable of discovering any slight difference. If he ever picks this up you mark my words, Tom, he's going to get the biggest shock he's felt in many a day."

"And you can see how the very first thing he'd be apt to do would be to look around to see if anybody was spying on him, and then hurry away to find if his paper could have been taken from the place where he hid it."

"Oh! I hope, Tom, he doesn't just step over it, and never bother to pick it up."

"We've got to take our chance of that happening," he was told; "but we know how nearly every boy would act. Besides, sc.r.a.ps of paper have begun to seem worth something in Dock's eyes lately. The chances are three to one he'll get it."

"Well, I'll meet you at just seven o'clock to-night at the old smithy, and we'll lay the trap when we hear his whistle up the road. Dock always whistles when he's out after dark. I think it must help him keep his courage up."

The church bells had just started to ring seven when the two boys came close to the old blacksmith shop that had been deserted when Mr.

Siebert moved to a better location.

They had chosen this spot because it was rather lonely, and there did not seem to be very much chance of their little game being interrupted by any other pedestrian coming along just at the critical time.

On one side of the road lay the bushes, in the midst of which the boys expected to hide; on the other could be seen the river.