They
departed, Jed's particular enemy muttering to himself and Mr. Wixon
laughing uproariously. The major once more addressed Jed.
"Where is the little girl you were with?" he asked.
"Eh? Oh, she's over yonder just 'round the p'int, sailin' a
shingle boat I made her. Shall I call her?"
"No, it isn't necessary. Mr. Winslow, I'm sorry to have put you to
all this trouble and to have cooled your--er--chowder. There is no
regulation against visitors to our reservation here just now,
although there will be, of course, later on. There is a rule
against building fires on the beach, but you broke that in
ignorance, I'm sure. The reason why you have been cross-questioned
to-day is a special one. A construction plan has been lost, as
Lieutenant Rayburn here informed you. It was on his desk in the
office and it has disappeared. It may have been stolen, of course,
or, as both windows were open, it may have blown away. You are
sure you haven't seen anything of it? Haven't seen any papers
blowing about?"
"I'm sure it didn't blow away, sir," put in the lieutenant. "I'm
positive it was stolen. You see--"
He did not finish his sentence. The expression upon Jed's face
caused him to pause. Mr. Winslow's mouth and eyes were opening
wider and wider.
"Sho!" muttered Jed. "Sho, now! . . . 'Tain't possible that .
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