it of the pawnbroker, I guess," laughed Thede. "You boys never
came clear up here just to chase through the snow after game when
there's plenty of shooting three hundred miles to the south."

"You say you think that Pierre is the man who bought the Little
Brass God of the pawnbroker?" asked Sandy, as the boys stopped for
a moment to rest. "Is that the reason you followed him here?"

"That's the reason!" was the reply.

"He seemed perfectly willing to have you come?"

"He welcomed me like a long lost brother!"

"Then it's a hundred to one shot Pierre never got his hands on the
Little Brass God! Don't you see how suspicious he would have been
if he had had the little brute in his possession?"

"I didn't think of that!" replied Thede. "Look here," the boy
continued, "I'd like to know what all this fuss is about, anyway.
Why should any one in his right mind give old Finklebaum a thousand
dollars or five thousand dollars, for that piece of brass? That's
what gets me!"

Tommy and Sandy looked at each other significantly but made no
immediate reply. In a moment Thede went on.

"'Spose this should be a Little Brass God stolen from some temple
away out in the wilds of India. Suppose a delegation of East
Indians should be sent here to get it. Wouldn't they murder a