He owned the cap of a fountain pen, a knob from a brass bedstead, two paper clips, a horse's tooth, a broken magnifying glass, a device for making noises in the classroom, a clock key, a glass tube, a piece of chalk for making scout signs, and other treasures.

But these were in the pockets of his scout uniform and could be of no service to him in his predicament.
The only trinket which he had was the fragment of a sandwich.

Having reduced this, by a generous bite, to one-half its size, he wrote his note as well as he could without moving too much.

One deadly weapon he had with him and that was a safety pin.

With this he now pierced the piece of sandwich to the heart, linking it forever with that note written tremblingly in a moment of forlorn hope and utter darkness, under the kindly concealment of the buffalo robe.
On the opposite page is the note and how it looked.
Having cast this last message out upon the road he withdrew his arm cautiously back under the robe and lay as nearly motionless as possible, prepared for the worst.
If he should never be heard of again, it would seem both touching and appropriate, that this memento of him should be a morsel of food (which he loved) fastened with a safety pin which was the weapon that he always carried.
[Illustration: [Handwritten note] I am being kidnapped by thieves who are stealing Mr.Bartlett's car.