He was right; there lay the knife beside the spot where Joseph Farvel had rested.
"It's mine, sure enough," said Bob, as he looked the blade over. He gazed at Robert Menden. "Do you think it was this Joseph Farvel who entered our room?"
"Great Cæsar! Perhaps."
"I believe it was that Bumbum," put in Dick. "I remember now that he cast longing glances at my pocketbook when I paid him that second five dollars. He is a regular brigand—or rather, a common sneak thief and footpad—and he probably tackled this Farvel for what he could get out of the fellow."
"I reckon as how Dick is right," was old Jacob's comment. He turned to the Englishman. "What do ye think is best to do concerning your enemy?"
Robert Menden thought for a moment.
"I don't want to leave him to die here," he said slowly. "That wouldn't be human. Cannot some of your party watch over him until he comes around, while I get out of sight?"
This was decided upon, and after some more conversation on the point, Robert Menden hurried on, accompanied by Dick, Don and Bob, leaving Leander, Danny, old Jacob and the Porto Rican behind.
It was fully half an hour ere Joseph Farvel
