“There’s nothing for us to do,” said Tom, “but wait around and see if that John Mink doesn’t come back here.” “I’m enjoying my vacation,” said Brent. Tom seemed nettled. “Yes, but it must be _somewhere_,” he said. “I’m going to clear out the gully all the way to Conner’s and search it thoroughly.” “Look out for snakes; remember they have the right of way. Have another sliver of bacon?” “The trouble with you,” said Tom, “is you’re a Philistine.” “No, I’m not a Philippine,” said Brent. “If you want to know honestly what I think, I don’t think we stand much chance of finding that money--hold on now, I’m not a Philippine----” “Philistine, I said,” Tom shot at him. “I believe the money is somewhere around here.” “Thanks,” said Tom. “Not at all,” said Brent. “And I think it’s likely that old geezer out west is the one who left it here.” “Now you’re talking.” “And you’re listening--that’s fine,” said Brent. “Have another sliver of bacon--no?” “Go on,” said Tom. “All right, my father was a doctor and I’ve heard him say that people who go daffy from a fall and get magnesia----” “Amnesia,” Tom shouted. “Pardon me, my error. I’ve heard him say that such people are sometimes cured by an operation after years. All right, then, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t come back here and get his money, if he remembers now where he put it. If he comes it will be mighty interesting to see him and help him. If he doesn’t come, we’re having a mighty good vacation, anyway. I’m here as a scientific observer. I don’t care anything about hunting for treasure; I had my little fling to-day and I’m _through_. If Captain Kidd’s ghost came and told me where his pirate gold was, I’d say, ‘Nothing doing, go dig in the sand yourself.’ “But I’d just kind of like to see if that old codger does come back here, like an old dog that can’t forget a place. If that old fellow _is_ Mink Havers, I’d like to see him and give him a hand--and, as you say, see that the kid gets her share. But if it’s just a case of digging, I’d rather take my little pail and shovel and go down to Coney Island. So much for that. If you want to vacuum clean the Gulch go ahead and do it. “What’s interesting me just at present are two things to wit, wiz. I’d like to know who was wandering around up at the top of the well to-night, before you came. And I’d like to know--Potato? No?--I’d like to know who it was that ran away from the Ford. If he really intended to steal your Ford, that would prove conclusively that he was John Mink, alias Treasure Jack. Because anybody who would want to steal your Ford must be plumb crazy; I don’t know if you’d call it magnesia or amnesia or what.” “It was a young man,” said Tom; “he ran like an athlete.” “He had gray hair?” “Yes, but lots of young men have that; fellows that think a lot----” “I think a great deal,” said Brent. “I’m always buried in thought when I’m not buried in a well. And my hair is wavy brown.” “That fellow wasn’t Mink,” laughed Tom.