In the meantime consternation prevailed outside. The Chief and his son had discovered that the small tin trunk containing several thousand dollars was missing. The ropes had evidently been cut. With his heart beating violently with apprehension of an irreparable loss, or a passage at arms with a band of highway robbers, the Chief hurriedly gathered all the fire-arms, ammunition, lanterns and axes in the place and sat down to wait for Rug, who had gone to arouse some of the employees in connection with the works. He tried to remain quietly where he was, but felt so nervous and excited that he could not sit still for a moment. He seemed to think that he was losing time unless he was moving. It was an absurd idea, he knew, but he could not resist it, so he hastened down to Mr. Wrenford's boarding-house to secure his assistance, and found that that gentleman had gone out early in the evening and had not returned. Rug having arrived with a number of brave, faithful men, they hastened back over the road to the steamboat landing. Cautiously they crept along, scanning each blackened stump which stood out in the darkness like a fortress of the enemy, until at last the Chief, who was in advance of the search party, gave a shout: "Come on, boys, come on!" There by the roadside stood a tall, powerful-looking man, bending over the missing trunk. Quick as thought they surrounded him. He stood firm and erect. He moved not an inch, nor manifested any desire to escape, and as they closed in upon him, to their amazement they found it was Machecawa. In his left hand was a scalp of long auburn hair; in his right was a bag of gold, which he held up triumphantly. "Eenglishman, he no rob White Chief no more," he said, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the lanterns. "Eenglishman, he no burn White Chief's mills no more. Eenglishman, he no tie White Chief's girl to tree no more," and he shook the auburn hair and danced round the box in high glee. The Chief was stunned. Visions of the decapitated Wrenford rose up before him. He stood gazing at the Indian with mingled feelings of horror at the atrocious crime he had evidently committed, and of incredulity as to the veracity of the charges brought against his unfortunate clerk. Machecawa advanced, and laying his hand upon the Chief's shoulder, explained that he was crossing the road, when he observed a man climb on to the rack behind the waggon, sever the ropes that bound the trunk securely, and deliberately throw it into a mossy bank, after which he let himself down gently and proceeded to force open the lock. "He was looking in the box," said Machecawa, "when I pounced on him and grabbed him by the hair, which came off in my hands." He then passed it round as an object of curiosity, and after examining it closely, the Chief said, with a sigh of relief: "It is a wig, boys, only a wig. Let us trust that the poor fellow has escaped the scalping-knife after all."