What a foolish, foolish boy! How could he tell his father, and Mr. Grigsby? Maybe, though, he could find the papers, and then he would not have to tell. The scheme him, but he that it was cowardliness. He had done the thing, and now he was afraid to accept the consequences. Huh! This was not playing fair with his partners. Besides, the longer he waited, the worse he made it for them and himself too.  
So he soberly dressed; then he went out, this time carefully locking the door behind him, which of course was rather late in the game. The boat containing his father and Mr. Grigsby was at the ship, and they two came up the side. They were with stuff that they had bought .
 
"Hello, Charley," greeted his father, cheerfully. "Had a good time? Phew, but it was hot on shore! You didn't miss much. Lend a hand, will you, and help us carry this truck into the cabin?"
 
"You must have been in the water," remarked Mr. Grigsby, keenly noting Charley's wet, salty hair.
 
Charley tried to smile, but it came hard. He picked up an armful of cocoanuts, and followed his partners to the cabin. They waited at the door for him.
 
"Got it locked, I see," quoth his father. "That's right. I told Grigsby we could depend on you."
 
They dumped the spoils in the cabin. Up to this time Charley had said scarcely a word.
 
"What's the matter, boy?" his father. "Didn't you have a good time? Aren't you feeling well?"
 
"I've lost the papers," Charley, wanting to cry.
 
"What?" His father and Mr. Grigsby stared at him. "You don't mean it!"
 
"Yes. I lost them, or somebody took them." And Charley did begin to cry. "I went in swimming and left my shoes in the cabin. And when I came back the papers were gone. Boo-hoo."
 
"Pshaw!" muttered Mr. Grigsby.
 
"Well, don't cry about it," his father, sharply. " up, and tell us about it."
 
Charley did.
 
"You're sure they aren't around the cabin somewhere?"
 
"I looked. I'll look again, though."
 
They all about, to no result.
 
"Did you look on deck, where you were?"
 
"Yes, sir."
 
"Did you lock the cabin door when you went out?"
 
"I think I did," answered Charley, honestly. "I meant to."
 
"But you aren't certain?"
 
"N—no; not exactly."
 
"Anybody could pick the lock, I suppose," said Mr. Grigsby, from under his bushy brows. "The thing looks to me like a put-up job. Who was the man that urged you to jump over?"
 
"I don't know. I'd never seen him before."
 
"Well, describe him," bade Mr. Adams.
 
Charley described him as best he could—a medium sized man in white suit, with iron-gray hair and short beard iron-gray to match.
 
"What color eyes?"
 
"I don't know," confessed Charley, truthfully. "B-black, I think."
 
"Don't know!" Mr. Grigsby. "After this, notice those things. A man can change his hair, but he can't change his eyes. When you've followed the trail a while, like I have, you'll learn to size a man up at a glance, and never forget him. Carson was a great fellow for that. So was Frémont. Well, the first thing to do is to look for Charley's man. What do you say, Adams?"
 
Charley's father gravely nodded.
 
"I agree. Did you see any of that gang go ashore, Charley? Either of the Jacobs cronies, I mean. Jacobs we saw ourselves, in the town."
 
"No, sir," said Charley. "But they might have gone."
 
"Didn't see them aboard ship, then?" asked Mr. Grigsby.
 
"No, sir; I didn't."
 
"Wait a minute," spoke Mr. Grigsby. "We did glimpse that fellow who tried to use the knife, going into a grog shop. Remember?"
 
"I do," affirmed Mr. Adams. "That accounts for two, then. Well, Charley," and he laid his hand on Charley's shoulder, "it's up to you to find your man for us, and then we'll investigate him. Take a brace, now, and don't feel bad. There's no use crying over spilled milk; you're only wasting time. You simply made a mistake, and everybody makes mistakes once in a while. The thing to do now is to go ahead and correct that mistake, the best you can. We'll help you."
 
What a brick his father was! And so was Mr. Grigsby. Instead of scolding him and confining him on bread and water, or sending him back home, they were shoulder to shoulder with him.
 
"The papers don't amount to so tearing much," Mr. Grigsby. "You know what the looks like. That assignment of the claim may be important and may not. But of course nobody likes to be robbed."
 
Charley was now all eagerness to himself and find that man with the iron-gray hair and beard. Out he went, with his eyes open; but though he everywhere, while the ship got under way and steamed, with a cheer, out past the Panama and to sea again, he found no passenger who looked anything like the one wanted. And he didn't see him at the table. Neither, so his father and Mr. Grigsby reported, on coming up after dining, separately, did they.
 
However, while most of the first-cabin and second-cabin passengers were loafing about, that evening, enjoying the long , who should saunter to the Adams party but the long-nosed man himself. He certainly had nerve!
 
"How are you?" he , very pleasantly. "I saw you gentlemen ashore. How'd you make out? Hot place, wasn't it!"
 
"We made out very well, sir," answered Mr. Adams, shortly. "But while we were gone our cabin was robbed. How do you account for that?"
 
"Meaning, I suppose, that you think I can account for it."
 
"Anybody who would with boats would tamper with a cabin, we reckon," Mr. Grigsby.
 
"You seem bound to be personal," retorted the long-nosed man. "That little on the Georgia came out in your favor, but you can't rile me. I want to let by-gones be by-gones. I'm a peaceable man. You've beat me, and I'm willing to say so. Who robbed your cabin? What'd you lose? Speak up."
 
"We lost some small papers, to this boy, here. I have witnesses to prove that they were in my possession, so they won't be of use to anybody else," informed Charley's father, "and the safest thing for the present to do is to return them."
 
"That's the captain's cabin. Tell the captain," urged the long-nosed man.
 
"No," growled Mr. Grigsby; "we thought we'd tell you."
 
"Meaning, I suppose, that I did it," returned the long-nosed man. "You're overshooting. You saw me ashore."
 
"Yes, we saw you," replied Mr. Grigsby.
 
"Meaning, I suppose," resumed the long-nosed man, "that if I didn't do it some of my friends did. You saw them ashore, too, didn't you?"
 
"Saw one of them, perhaps," admitted Mr. Adams.
 
"Well, you prove that the other was on this ship—you find anybody who can swear he saw the other on this ship, and then you've the right to question him," challenged the long-nosed man. "But he couldn't enter your cabin when he wasn't here, could he? Or I, or anyone else, either! Now, listen. I've come to you, wanting to be friendly. I don't deny it was to my interests to keep you back, so I could get to Californy first, and I tried my levelest. But you've beat me, and here you are. I'm a fair man; I know when I'm licked, and I don't bear you ill-will. Understand? The passengers on this steamer," and the long-nosed man raised his voice so that the people around would hear, "are witness to my coming to you and saying, 'You've licked me; but I'm friendly. Let by-gones be by-gones.' And what do I get? Why, you call me a thief, when you know very well I didn't do it. That hurts my feelings, gentlemen," and with this appeal, the long-nosed man walked off, indignant.
 
"That's the most speech I ever heard in all my life!" exclaimed Mr. Adams, struggling between laughter and . "He threatens Charley and me, and tries to cut our boat down and drown us, and assaults you (to Mr. Grigsby) and gets you almost knifed, and sets our canoe adrift, on the Chagres, and when we finally, by luck, reach the steamer just as she's weighing anchor, he orders the captain not to take us aboard—and now after our cabin is robbed very suspiciously and we've lost what he wanted, he says, 'I forgive you. I'm friendly. Shake hands.'"
 
Charley felt the same way. Evidently so did Mr. Grigsby, whose eyes were glinting shrewdly. He Charley and his father and led them out of earshot of the other passengers.
 
"That talk doesn't go, of course," he said. "It's regular Injun talk, after they've stolen your hosses. Humph! We can't find Charley's man, can we? At least, we haven't found him. Why? Because there isn't any such man. I'll my rifle against a cocoanut that the hair and beard were false. If they'd been stripped off, the third in the gang would have shown up. As soon as Jacobs about our 'proving' that the third fellow was on ship and not on shore, I made up my mind. He and Charley's man are one and the same. See?"
 
"I believe you're right," dec............