"Yes, dump everything on the table. That's the ticket!"

It was Steve himself who said this.

If he was playing a joke Steve certainly knew how to keep a straight face.
He looked eager, indignant, even alarmed; but Max could see not one single
sign of secret laughter. Even his eyes, those tell-tale orbs by which the
secret thoughts are so often betrayed, failed to disclose the twinkle Max
fully expected to find.

Toby obeyed instructions.

Quite a motley collection of various things that were apt to prove useful
rattled on the rough board table as he held the pouch up by two corners.

The little cardboard box was missing.

Toby, as if to make the matter so positive that there could be no mistake,
even turned the bag inside out.

"She's gone, fellows!" ejaculated Steve, hoarsely. "After all our boasting
some sly thief has crept right into our midst, and got away with our
little beauty! It's rotten luck, that's what I say. And for the life of me
I don't see how he ever did it."

Max opened his mouth, as though the temptation to speak was more than he
could stand; but he closed it quickly again.

"I'll wait and see what his little game is," he kept saying to himself.