CHAPTER XIV.
A CHANGE OF BASE.
"I believe this is the exact spot; yes, I am sure it is.
Drop your anchor, Ashley, so that the bow will point
up-stream," says Barker, as he grasps a long pole with
a hook at one end, and prepares to explore the bed
of Wild River.
Ashley lets go the rock that does duty as an anchor and remarks ruefully, when all but a yard of the rope is run out: "This is deep-sea fishing. There is over twelve feet of water here."
"Thunder! And mud enough to bury a man-of-war," grunts the detective.
After fifteen minutes of earnest but ineffectual groping in the slimy bed of the stream Barker throws the pole from him and remarks: "No use."
"Can't the river be dredged?"
"Yes; with a force of men and a steam dredger, and the whole township looking on and asking questions. We can do nothing this morning. Up anchor and away! I could use a little breakfast."
"By the way," observes Ashley, as the two men walk back to the hotel, "in all your talk last night you said nothing of that locket, with the miniatures of the Hathaway sisters, which was stolen from the watch-chain of the murdered cashier the night of the killing."
"Do you know it was stolen on that night?" asks the detective.
"We must assume that it was until we know otherwise, I suppose," returns Ashley. "If the missing locket is found in the possession of any one of our suspects it would be a strong link, would it not?"
"Very likely, but we must find our man first. Shall you be ready to leave for New York to-night?"
"Sure thing."
"Good. We must strike the trail there and follow it, if need be, to the end of the world."
