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"Well, this is Shagmon," went on the sheriff, "and, as I told your young friend, I've been trying for some time to bag the men at the summer camp. They number quite a few, and if they don't do anything worse, they run a gambling game there. I'm pretty sure, if the bank robbers are in this vicinity, they're in that camp.
"He seems to have the money, according to what one of the men in the office said, and he's the man we want." "Shagmon!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Yes, Shagmon. The fellow I heard talking 'said he'd go to Shagmon and make Morse whack up. Shagmon may be the real head of the gang." "Ha! I have it!" cried Mr. Damon suddenly. "I wonder I didn't think of it before.
If I don't get what's coming to me inside of a week, I'll go to Shagmon myself and make Morse whack up. I helped on the job, and I want my money!" "Will you be quiet?" pleaded another, and, at that instant Tom heard some one's hand on the knob. The door opened a crack, letting out a pencil of light. The men were evidently coming out. The young inventor did not wait to hear more.
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