And he'd have made a pile of ashes of it in about one minute,
at that!"
"Perhaps he couldn't open up the merry little chap," Sandy
suggested.
"We don't know whether he understood the secret or not," Will
answered. "All we know is that the Little Brass God was still
intact a week after it had been stolen."
"Then he knew the combination, or he didn't get the will!" argued
George.
"Anyhow!" Tommy laughed, "we've got only about a million or more
miles of country to search over for a little brass god about -----"
"Say, just how big is this Little Brass God?" asked Sandy.
"He's about six inches in height, and three inches across his dirty
shoulders, and he certainly is about the ugliest specimen of a
heathen beast that ever came down the pike."
"What would that French Canadian buy him for?" asked George.
"That's another thing we've got to find out," replied Will.
Tommy was about to ask another question when Will held up a hand
for silence. The leaping flames were sending long streamers of
light into the thicket on either side and over the glistening
waters of Moose river. The circle of illumination extended for
some distance on every side, except at the back of the tents, where
the level ground lay in shadows.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27