“Mr. Boise wants those papers I brought to you one day. Those papers about your estate.” “Papers--did you bring me some papers?” Tom was beginning to despair of ever getting the doctor to understand what was wanted. “Don’t you remember?” he asked. “It was the same day you secured that edition of Smollett,” for Tom had an excellent memory. “Oh, yes! Now I remember, of course. Why didn’t you say that at first? The papers about my estate. Why, yes, of course. You brought them up the day I secured that rare copy of Smollett. Of course, I remember now,” and the doctor chuckled at his excellent memory, which never could remember anything unless it was associated with a book. “Will you get those papers and bring them to Mr. Boise’s office?” asked Tom. “He wants to see you at once. It’s very important.” “Yes--yes, of course. Right away. The papers? Of course; let me see now, where did I put them?” Tom felt like groaning. It seemed hopeless to try to get the old physician to remember where the documents were. “Let me see,” mused the physician. “Did I put them in my desk? I’ll look.” He did without result. Then he explored a small safe, next a chest of drawers. Then he looked in all his pockets. Then he stared around at the rows of books. “That’s queer,” he murmured. “I can’t remember where I put them.” Tom thought instead of being queer that it was the most natural thing in the world for the doctor not to remember. “Now where did I put them?” murmured the old man. “If I had only stuck them in some book, I’d be sure to remember them.” At this Tom gave an exclamation. “What’s the matter?” asked Dr. Spidderkins. “The book!” cried the boy. “Don’t you remember? You put the papers under a volume of Fielding!” For, like a flash, it had occurred to the boy what the doctor had done with the documents, and Tom recalled the mistake he had made about the book--thinking it had to do with baseball. “Oh, yes, of course. Now I remember,” cried Dr. Spidderkins. “That’s where they are. I knew I would remember. I’ll get them at once.” He went to where the book was. He had no difficulty in recalling where any volume, among his several thousand, was located on the shelves. “Here is the book,” he said. “A very rare edition. Now the papers----” Then a blank look came over his face. “The papers are gone!” he exclaimed. CHAPTER XXIII DR. SPIDDERKINS IS ANGRY “Perhaps I made a mistake, and that wasn’t the book,” remarked Tom. “Oh, that was the book. I am positive about that. I have a bad memory, but when it comes to books it is pretty good. Especially when you speak of it. I am positive I put those papers either in or under that book.” “That’s what I think, too,” said Tom. “Maybe they have fallen down.” He and the doctor made a thorough search. They took out all the books in that part of the library, and looked behind them. They even searched through several volumes on either side of the Fielding, but no papers were to be found.