Tim was scarcely less excited than Rodney, as soon as he had become familiar with the situation. “It can’t be that Daley and Spofford hev played me a trick.” “What if Dean Mercer goes to the bank? They will be after me!” “Reckon it won’t be any easy matter for ’em to prove anything,” muttered Tim. “Fust thing I’m going to know is if that boat is burned or not. It must hev burnt and somehow Dean Mercer slipped through those crazy Rube’s fingers.” “Yes,” assented Rodney. “It will be best to find out if the _Spray_ has been burned or not.” “I’ll find out in a jiffy. Ye jess stay right here till I come back.” “You will have to hurry, Tim, if we go back on the _Warrior_.” “Don’t b’lieve I shall go back,” replied Tim. The speech pleased Rodney, who felt that he would gladly get rid of his associate. “Will you stay here?” “Not if I know myself. Too tame. I’ll go somewhere else, and with my money I’ll start in business.” “Well, come back and tell me what you learn of the _Spray_.” “Reckon I shall come back as long as you hev my money. Let’s divide now.” “Wait till you get back. Come! hurry and find out all you can. Also when the _Warrior_ will start back to Millville.” Tim did not offer any reply to this, but immediately left the hotel. It seemed like a long time to Rodney, as he waited impatiently and anxiously to learn the truth, before Tim Downey returned. The latter’s countenance told before he had spoken a word the result of his trip. “The _Spray_ hain’t burnt!” he muttered, as he sank into the nearest chair. “Daley and Spofford that I paid to do the job got blooming drunk on the money and are now in the lockup. That blaze we saw was only an old shed.” “Pretty mess you have made of it,” declared Rodney. “Give me my share of the money--quick!” “Are the officers coming?” asked Rodney in alarm. “Dunno ’bout enny officers. I hain’t ennything to do with ’em. I’m jess going to get out’n Springfield without enny longer stay. Don’t like the blamed ol’ town.” Rodney began to count out the money that he had received from the bank. “There’s your half of the check. I ought to have more than half seeing I did the work, and mighty risky----” “Now, the half of the other,” broke in Tim, almost savagely. “Ye move awful slow, and the _Warrior_, I forgot to tell ye, starts in ten minutes.” “Seems to me you are all-fired uppish, seeing I’m the one who has done all that has been done. Here’s your divvy on the Ellison haul.” Tim Downey did not have much education, but his natural wit was sharp, and he saw that the other had not given him an equal division of the money obtained from Marcus Ellison. “Ye hevn’t gin me a square deal, Rod,” he declared. Rodney Darringford turned pale, exclaiming: “I have, Tim. That is,” he added, “there’s all that belongs to you. As long as you didn’t burn the _Spray_, I have just kept back the two hundred dad paid you. I will hand that to him.” Tim Downey’s face was black with rage.