DAVID voiced the general consternation: “By the Lord, Masters has got the gold, after all!”

The following silence admitted the truth of his lament. Saxe’s face set grimly. His tones came harsh, when at last he spoke:

“We’ll keep on hunting,” he said; “only, now we’ll hunt Masters.”

Jake stood disconsolate, scratching his head, and staring wistfully from one to another. It was evident that he accepted the catastrophe as irremediable. Not so Billy Walker! On the contrary, Saxe had hardly done speaking when the voice of the wise man came booming the decrees of ratiocination, with the usual pedantic note of authority:

“The trouble with the disorderly mind is,” he began, with didacticism almost insulting, “that it jumps to a conclusion without due consideration of all the facts. Suddenly confronted with one fact, which is admitted, the illogical person reaches a judgment without any scrutiny whatsoever of other vital facts concerned. Thus, in the instance before us!” He paused, and his little dull eyes, twinkling now from excitement, went from one to another of the three men before him, who listened too anxiously to be in the least offended, for his opening gave them hope. They knew by experience that Billy’s reasoning, notwithstanding all his boasts, was, indeed, usually exact, proven just by circumstance. The respectful attention on their faces was grateful to the seer. As he continued, his manner was more genial, though no less breathing the ipse dixit.

“Jake has discovered that someone has been before us here, digging in this hole. That is one single, solitary fact. Instantly, all of you impulsively take it for granted that Masters has found the gold here, and has already removed it. As a matter of reason, the chances are greatly against this unwarrantable assumption. It is only necessary to consider all the facts in our possession to understand this.

“In the first place, the fact that this hole has been dug up recently does not prove that there was gold hidden in it. As far as our knowledge goes, the treasure may have been there, or it may not. There is not a particle of evidence one way or the other. Masters was after the gold. He hunted here. That’s all we know. We do not know whether or not he found the money here. Even you chaps must admit that much.” He regarded the trio with accusing glances, before which they nodded a meek assent.

“Go on, Billy,” Saxe urged.

The undisguised interest of his audience served to set the orator in the best of humors, so that he grinned cheerfully on them as he resumed:

“There are some facts that tend to show the impossibility of Masters having already removed the money from this place. It was late when Roy got his hurt from the hands of the engineer. It is reasonable to suppose that the fellow had had no chance to find, much less take away, the gold before the time when he encountered Roy. Now, the time that elapsed, after Roy received his wound until our coming to the cavern, was not very long. You doubtless remember that we were routed out at an unchristian hour, little better than the middle of the night. In fact, the dawn was still on the other side of the hills when we made the island. We were here not more than three hours after Roy got shot, and it is more likely that the interval was less. I am inclined to think it was perhaps not more than two hours. David, here, knows something about gold and its weight. I submit as reasonable the statement that, had Masters found the gold in this hole, he could not in the time at his disposal have removed that weight of metal to any distance without aid.

“We are justified in believing that he works unaided, for the sake of greed and for the sake of prudence. If you bear in mind the length of this passage, and the impossibility of traversing it except slowly and cautiously, even unburdened, you will appreciate my reasons for suspecting that Masters has not carried off the gold.” Billy stared inquiringly at the listeners, and appeared elated as they severally nodded agreement.

“No,” David declared, “I believe it would have been next to impossible for him to have got away with it, even if he hid it close by on the island. From the way the blood on Roy’s face was caked, and the color of it, I don’t believe it had been an hour after the shooting when we got here.”

“If you’re right about that,” Billy averred, “it makes the probability of my reasoning a certainty.”

“I’m pretty sure,” David answered. “I’ve seen bullet-holes enough to be pretty sure.”

“Why, then,” Saxe exclaimed, briskly, and there was new confidence in his voice, “it seems to me that we’re just where we were—with the gold still to find. In the first place, we must make sure that it isn’t still here in this pit, and, if it isn’t, we must go ahead with the search of the cavern, until we find out where it is.”

Billy emitted a rumbling chuckle, as Saxe leaped down into the pit, and raised a pickaxe.

“My dear boy,” the sage cried, in bantering compliment, “for once you have reasoned simply and precisely. Bravo!”

Not much time was required to make evident the fact that there could be nothing of value concealed in the pit. The litter was readily penetrated, and revealed beneath it solid rock, undisturbed since first set there by the processes of primeval ages. The discovery was a source of relief, rather than of disappointment, and Saxe, doubtless encouraged by the tribute accorded to his reasoning powers by Billy Walker, called attention to the fact that the amount of loose matter in the pit was far from being sufficient to have concealed any great bulk of gold. It was, therefore, reasonable to suppose that the treasure had never been buried in this place.

The seer gave a grunt of approbation.

“You advance by leaps and bounds,” he declared.

Exploration of the continuance of the passage was speedily effected, as it narrowed immediately beyond the pit, and came to a definite end within ten yards. Thereupon, the four retraced their steps, inspecting with care every inch of the way, until they reached the break that formed a communication between the two tunnels. It was decided now that the party should divide, Billy and David keeping on in this passage, while Saxe and the boatman crossed into the other, there to follow its length under the lake.

Saxe knew that he and the girl had gone a little way beyond the junction of the passages, and he was intensely eager to learn what might lie farther on. Hope mounted high as he set forth down the slope, with Jake hard at his heels. He realized that, for ill or weal, he was close to the issue of his adventure, and he dared expect success.

The way at first led downward steeply, but afterward, at a point which, as Saxe judged, was still well within the island, the tunnel ascended for a time, then ran level. This level broadened presently into a chamber, larger even than that back at the entrance to the cavern. Their lanterns showed a room fully a hundred feet in diameter, irregular, its walls broken by many ledges, with here and there deep shadows that might shroud the entrances to other passages.

“It’s not the place, though,” Saxe declared; “for we are too high. This isn’t under the lake—and the cipher says, ‘The Bed of the Lake.’ Come on, Jake.”

He led the way toward a tunnel that yawned blackly on the south side of the chamber. This sloped sharply downward, without a bend. Saxe, who possessed an instinct for location that was rarely at fault, had kept careful watch of every change in direction throughout the exploration.

“Jake,” he said abruptly, after the straight course had been followed for a few rods, “if we keep on like this, we ought to hit the passage where the pit is.”

“I guess not,” the boatman objected. “We’ve been all over that-thar tunnel, and there ain’t no place where this-here tunnel comes into it. Now, what do ye say to that, Mr. Temple, eh?”

“Not a blessed thing,” Saxe replied. “You’re right, of course, and yet—anyhow, I’d be willing to wager we’ll run within a rod of the other passage, at farthest.”

“Ain’t no way of settlin’ that-thar idee o’ your’n,” Jake commented, with a cackle. “Guess as how I don’t pine to bet none.”

The two went on in silence after this, moving at a fair rate of speed, for the tunnel was only slightly encumbered with dÉbris, but they did not permit haste to breed neglect of their purpose. Ever, as they went, they kept a careful lookout for aught that might by any possibility be a hiding-place for the miser’s gold. On either side, they looked, above, below—always in vain. Nowhere in the descent was there anything to suggest a receptacle for stores of precious metal. Suddenly, Saxe, who from his place in advance had been peering before him anxiously, spoke in a voice of discouragement:

“Jake, I believe we’re coming to the end of it.”

The boatman quickened his steps, and reached the speaker’s side. The two halted. By the light of their lanterns, they saw a wall of stone, which barred further passage. Here was, indeed, the end of the tunnel. Jake nodded his head.

“Yes,” he agreed, “it’s the end, sure enough.”

“The floor is broken!” Saxe cried, of a sudden. In an instant, he was surcharged with excitement. Jake, too, was thrilled. Together, they stared fixedly at the space that stretched level from their feet to the end of the tunnel. Wildest hope was welling in Saxe’s breast now. In the interstices of broken rock before him, imagination caught the yellow gleam of coins.

For, at this point, the floor of the cavern showed some evidence of containing a natural opening similar to that in the other passage, at the place where Roy had seen Masters. But, where the other opening had been plainly visible, and, in fact, only partially filled by the pieces of stone within it, this was full to the top with rock fragments, neatly compacted—so neatly compacted, in truth, that it were easy to suspect the cunning of man in their precise adjustment, rather than the haphazard of nature. Gazing down on that orderly arrangement, the two men became certain that here, at last, was the spot chosen by the dead miser for the concealment of his store. Yet, for a little, each hesitated to begin the examination that would prove conclusive. They were half-fearful of putting conviction to the test of proof. Perhaps, too, the delight of anticipation held them in thrall. Saxe walked slowly along one side of the broken place, until he came to the end of the tunnel. There, something in the rocky wall caught his attention, and he regarded the terminal formation more critically. Presently, he turned to Jake, and spoke with an air of triumph:

“I’m sure I was right about this passage running to the one where we found Roy. This is a continuation of the other. The opening in the floor here is the other half of the one into which Masters burrowed.”

“Well, maybe so, maybe so,” Jake replied, in a voice that was plainly skeptical. “But jest how do ye make out all that-thar information?”

“By my bump of location, chiefly,” Saxe admitted. “But there’s corroborative evidence in the fact that the wall here is only a big boulder, along with a lot of smaller stones which block the passage.”

“Well, so be,” the boatman commented placidly, “I don’t calc’late as how it makes a mighty sight o’ difference, one way or t’other. The p’int is, what in tarnation’s under here?”

“Of course,” Saxe conceded. “Merely, it pleases my vanity to have been right.” He came to the old man’s side, and spoke with a quick sharpness in his tone: “And now, Jake, let’s find out if there’s anything here.”

A few blows from the pickaxes loosened the closely packed pieces of stone. The two then began to cast out these to one side. They found the work simple enough, though fatiguing, for many of the rocks were of formidable weight; but all were lying loosely, once the top layer had been removed.

Saxe paused for a brief rest, after having with difficulty heaved a huge stone from the pit.

“Mr. Abernethey never could have handled these,” he exclaimed. “The idea is absurd.”

The boatman shook his head in emphatic denial.

“Don’t you go worrying yourself none over that,” he counseled. “That-thar old man was a wonder in some ways. He was mighty powerful in his arms and chist. I seen him oncet lift a barrel o’ vinegar up by the chines into a wagon. I reckon he acquired consid’ble muscle from the pianner; he used to wallop it some tremendous, I tell you! Yep, he could h’ist out a heftier rock nor you or me.”

This information quickened Saxe’s hope, and he toiled on with increased energy. The boatman showed an equal zeal. The pit grew deeper momently. Suddenly, Jake gave forth a great shout:

“Jumpin’ Jehosaphat! We’ve struck it!” He straightened up, his face creased with innumerable wrinkles of happiness as he looked across the pit at Saxe.

The heir of Abernethey was beside the speaker within the second. As he bent forward, following the boatman’s gesture, he saw, in the open place left by the removal of the stone, a surface of oak. He understood that this must be the cover of a chest. An exclamation of triumph broke from his lips. He made no effort to conceal his agitation.

“Quick! Quick!” he cried. “Let’s get the other stones off.” He hurled from the pit with ease one which, a minute before, he could hardly have stirred. The splendid madness of success tripled strength. The old man beside him shared in the frenzy of toil. Within an incredibly short time, the oak covering was laid bare, and one corner of the chest stood exposed for its whole height. It was a great box of polished wood, brass-bound at the corners. The cover was made fast by hasp and padlock—the whole simple, yet very strong and handsome.

“Hurrah!” Jake cried, as he paused from the work to wipe his dripping forehead.

“Hurrah!” Saxe answered, as he, too, rested. Then, he remained staring at the mighty box, wherein lay a fortune. He was too dazed by the final victory to think with coherence: he could but feel, with every atom of the energy in him.

There was no further interchange between the two for some time. In silence, they again attacked the litter of rock that surrounded the chest. It was freed at last from the rampart that had shielded it. Jake put his shoulder against the side, and essayed an experimental push. With a groan from the strain, he abandoned the futile effort. There was vast contentment in his smile when he spoke:

“I calc’late that-thar box will heft pretty consid’ble. It’s gold, all right.”

“Yes, it’s the gold,” Saxe agreed, dreamily. He was thinking of Margaret now, and he smiled as he reflected on the fact that the miser’s legacy would fall to her and him together. A great longing to be alone assailed him. He turned impulsively to the boatman.

“Hurry, and find the others, Jake!” he directed.

“You bet ye!” the boatman responded, with alacrity. He was eager to bear the tidings. In a trice, he had scrambled out of the pit, seized his lantern, and set off briskly up the slope of the tunnel.

Left alone, Saxe lighted a cigarette, smiling a little as he noted the manner in which his hands were trembling. Then, he seated himself comfortably at the edge of the pit, and gazed raptly down on the treasure-chest.