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“This morning, just before I came to breakfast.”
“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.”
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“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.