something large and hard. Stooping down, he saw with some surprise
that it was a wooden case.

"I wonder what's in it?" he said.

"Bottles," reported Edgar, pulling up a board of the lid. "One of the
cure-everything tonics, according to the labels. It strikes me as a
curious place to leave it in."

George carefully looked about. He could distinguish a faint track,
where the grasses had been disturbed, running straight across the sloo
past the spot he occupied; but he thought that the person who had made
the track had endeavored to leave as little mark as possible. Then he
glanced out between the poplar trunks across the sunlit prairie. There
was not a house on it; scarcely a clump of timber broke its even
surface. The bluff was very lonely; and George remembered that a trail
which ran near by led to an Indian reservation some distance to the
north. While he considered, Edgar broke in:

"As neither of us requires a pick-me-up, it might be better to leave
the thing where it is."

"That," replied George, "is my own idea."

Edgar looked thoughtful.

"The case didn't come here by accident; and one wouldn't imagine that
tonics are in great demand in this locality. I have, however, heard
the liquor laws denounced; and as a rule it's wise to leave matters
that don't concern you severely alone."