"May I look at it?" went on the man, eagerly. "I have reason to think that it is mine, and that I have yours."
"At last!" murmured Tom. "Once more on the trail of the mystery at last! Like a prima donna's final-final concert. Yes, you may see the chair, and welcome."
He opened the door of their room, and at the first glance inside, the stranger noted the chair.
"Yes, that's mine!" he cried, eagerly.
"That's what we thought at first," spoke Sid, calmly.
The stranger paid no attention to the boys now. He went over to the chair, in the bottom part of which the boards had again been fitted loosely. The man put his hand underneath, and, as he did so, the boards fell down once more.
"What's this!" he cried. "Someone has been tampering with my chair! There is something missing! Something valuable! Did you lads take anything from this chair?"
"What might it have been?" inquired Tom, calmly, motioning to his chums to keep silent.
"A paper—a document—a valuable document! Did you take it?"
"We found a certain paper," replied Tom. "I sat in the chair a little too hard, the boards dropped, and there was a paper in there."
"It's mine! Where is it now? I demand it!"
