One thing was paramount, his determination to know everything of the crime that had been perpetrated in the main drive of the Silver Stream.

Fragments of thoughts seemed to flicker up like flames within him and die out again instantly, and he repeated constantly under his breath without knowing why: 'Her father! Her father! Her father!' There was something to be done--much to be done, and one important thing, one thing that meant life or death; but these must come after.

Now he was wild to know all that the thieves might tell.
Rogers was the first to come crawling back to the tree.

He scattered the loose rubbish in the hollow trunk, and uttered a fierce oath.
'It's gone, gone, gone!' he almost shouted as Shine joined him.
'You lie, you lie! You want to rob me!' the long searcher had flown at his throat, and for a few seconds they struggled together, but Rogers threw the older man off fiercely and dragged him by the throat to the tree.
'Feel, search, look for yourself, you hound!' he cried.

'Could I eat it ?' Shine, going on his hands and knees, clawed amongst the rubbish; then, whining and muttering, went scratching about like a dog, seeking high and low, and Rogers followed him blaspheming with insensate fury.
'It's no good, I tell you, you snuffling, whimpering, white-livered cur!' he said.