"Both," answered the professor. "I opened
the silk to tie it more smoothly, so it would not
be such a lump in my pocket, and I made sure
the map was inside."
"Then the whole thing has been taken--or you
have lost it," suggested Ned.
"I am not in the habit of losing valuable maps,"
retorted the scientist. "And the pocket of my
coat I had made deep, for the purpose of carrying
the long map. It could not drop out."
"Well, we mustn't overlook any possible
chances," suggested Tom. "Come on now, we'll
search every inch of the ground over which you
traveled this morning, Professor."
"It MUST be found," murmured the scientist.
"Without it all our work will go for naught."
They all went into the tent where the professor
and Mr. Damon had slept when they were not
on guard. The camp was a busy place, with the
Indians finishing their morning meal, and getting
ready for the work of the day. For word
had been given out that there would be no more
long periods of travel.
In consequence, efforts were being directed by
the head men of the bearers to making a more
permanent camp in the wilderness. Shelters of
palm-thatched huts were being built, a site for
cooking fires made, and, at the direction of Mr.
Damon, to whom this part was entrusted, some
sanitary regulations were insisted on.
Leaving this busy scene, the four, with solemn
faces, proceeded to the tent where it was hoped
the map would be found. But though they went
through everything, and traced and retraced
every place the professor could remember having
traversed about the canvas shelter, no signs of
the important document could be found.
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