“Tim! Tim!” he cried. “Wake up. Say, did you gather up the money?” “What money?” “The bank notes we spread on the hearth to dry.” “Not I. They’re there.” “Well, they ain’t.” “What?” “No.” Tim sat bolt upright and stared blankly at the hearth. “You’re joking, Rodney?” “I ain’t.” “Just wake up?” “Yes.” “Wind blew them into the corner of the room.” “None there, and the door is down. Some one has been here.” “The money is gone?” “Yes, stolen.” “We’re beggars.” “Worse--thieves!” The worst was soon known. The money was gone. The only plausible theory was one admitting that some dishonest prowler had discovered the money, and taken it. The blow was a terrible one to the boys, so much so, that when Rodney noticed a blazing red X on Tim’s forehead, he did not even remark it, and Tim was too dejected and overcome to notice that on his companion’s brow. They donned their coats, and made a hasty scurry around the cabin, but no trace of the thief or booty was found. Then they grew irritable, and fell to quarreling, and then again began planning what they would do. “I’m dying of hunger,” said Tim, “and I’m going to find some place to get something to eat at.” “Where?” “Portsmouth must be near here.” “Yes; only a few miles, I guess. I’m going back home.” “And leave me?” “We’ve got no money. We can’t even get a meal.” “Yes, we can. The thief has taken all our money, but I’ve got my jewelry. I can sell that.” The boys finally left the hut. In an hour they came to a crossroads tavern, beyond which lay the little hamlet of Portsmouth. The tavern keeper was busy at his bar arranging some bottles, when Tim entered the place, followed by Rodney. “Say, mister,” he said, “can we get a meal here?” “I reckon so.” “We’ve got no money.” “No trust to strangers.” “But I’ve got a watch and chain here,” pursued Tim. “We were robbed last night of all our money. We want to stay here a day or two, and if you’ll give us a meal and something to drink first, I’ll send my friend to the town yonder to sell the watch and pay you.” The landlord hesitated, but finally said: “I guess it’s all right. No games, now.” “Oh, no; you can keep the watch for security and send to town yourself, if you like.” “No, I’ll trust you, only one of you stay here while the other goes for the money.” “That’s all right.” “Sit down at one of the tables. I’ll order your breakfast for you.” The boys did so, removing their hats. As the tavern keeper came back with some dishes, he stared strangely at them. “Hello!” he ejaculated. “So you’ve seen Crazy Meg, eh?” CHAPTER XXVII. A FRUITLESS SEARCH. The landlord stared first at Tim’s head and then at that of Rodney Darringford, and both boys at once discovered that he was very much startled. “What’s that?” demanded Tim sharply. “Crazy Meg, I say. You must have seen her!” “Who’s Crazy Meg?” “Don’t know her?” “I do not.” “Never heard of her?” “Never.” “You must be strangers hereabouts, then?” “We are.”