"Hurrah!" echoed Ray, with teasing, mock enthusiasm. "Hurrah!"

But we hadn't taken two more steps forward, now, when there broke out ahead of us the voice of Hawkins again, singing:

"She died of the fever, no doctor could save her."

Smash! went our enthusiasm, and we turned tail and skedaddled back on the path. We pulled up a moment at the edge of the open bit, and we heard:

"She was a fish monger, and where is the wonder—"

We hopped across the clearing, and still the song followed:

"For they all wheeled wheel-barrows through streets wide and narrow,"

"Crying—'Cockles! and mussels! alive, alive, O!'"

"That blooming idiot!" broke out Norris, when we came to a stand in the brush. "What business had he coming back so soon!"

"He just couldn't wait to sing us that song," said Ray. "'Cockles! and muscles!' But say—Hurrah for the gold mine!"

"Perhaps the black boy smelled a mouse," I offered.

We hadn't long to wait till Hawkins came pushing through the brush.

"I tell you wot, fellahs," he explained, "that nigger suddent got stubborn, an' wouldn't go no farther. 'Ee was just afraid, I guess, as 'ow the boss 'ud raise ructions if we 'adn't got enough work done when 'ee gets back. This last trip, the boss sure 'as got a big 'urry on; 'ee'd 'ave us workin' night an' day, if 'ee 'ad the light."

"How much, now, do you suppose he has got out of the diggings?" questioned Norris.

"Hit's a 'eap more nor I can guess," answered Hawkins. "Hit's a 'eap o' pounds we 'ave got out the two years I 'ave been 'ere. An' now, 'ee's a cartin' of it awye from some 'ole back in the rocks where 'ee's been keepin' it, 'ee don't let the nigger nor me go near the plyce. 'Ee says 'ee 'as got a trap there; an' 'ee'll shoot us if we foller 'im anywhere 'ee goes."

Norris had many queries to put the little cockney contortionist, but I soon pressed him to go, lest the black boy should come seeking him. And so he went, having exacted a promise that we would not go away from the region without him. In return, he contracted to play into our hands in circumventing Duran. "And Hi'm slick," he declared. "He cawn't fool Handy 'Awkins."

"And now—" began Norris.

"Now we'll get back to our little camp," I said.

"It's hard to go without a sight of the gold diggings," said Norris, half in earnest, half playing the youngster.

"The diggings will keep till the time's ripe," I said, assuming the paternalism forced on me.

"Hurrah for the gold mine!" teased Ray, keeping a wary eye on Grant Norris.

We were soon in the path, and presently scaled the cliff on Duran's contraption. We coiled the halliard under the brush on the cliff-top, as Duran had left it, and picked our way to the cavern entry-hall. A flash from my electric lamp revealed that all the gold-laden bamboo cylinders were gone from that niche, where we had seen them.

"I hope to Heaven our fellows saw what he did with that stuff," prayed Norris, when we had crawled out through the curtain of water into that outer world again.

"Trust Bob for that," I assured him. "He'll have the place spotted if he's had half a chance."

Everything was ship-shape in the camp-place amongst the brush. There was food in plenty, and though it was late, I was glad to round out my breakfast with some fruit and a nibble of cheese. We had nothing to do but to rest until the return of our comrades. And that event we were not to expect until some time between sunset and morning, for we had already seen that it was by night, by preference, that Duran traveled to and from that secret vale behind the cliffs.

It was a long and irksome time of waiting that day and night, for a good share of the night had passed ere they had come. Even now, so long since that time, I yawn to think of it. And I am thinking that I can do no better, to cover that space, than tell how our friends employed the time, while they were gone down Crow Bay.

It was soon after nightfall, Carlos—on the lookout—had heard Duran splashing in the creek, below the cascade, and he made out the ill-defined form of him as he moved away down the path in the murk. Carlos hurried over to the nook in the brush and made his report.

Duran's coming, of course, was expected—though he seemed a trifle early—and the plan of procedure had already been outlined. Grant Norris set off at once to again achieve that passage through the grotto and join Ray, who lingered at the cliff-top, where he had witnessed Duran's passage. Captain Jean Marat, Robert, and Carlos prepared to follow on Duran's trail.

But there was a circumstance troubled Carlos, and he had a word to say.

"Duran, he walk ver' light, an' it seem' he keep ver' straight," he began. "I think he do not carry anything."

"Let's go see!" said Robert.

And he and Carlos hastened into the cavern, where Robert threw his flashlight on the scene. There was that stack of gold-filled sections of bamboo, quite of the same size as they had seen it hardly more than two hours before. And more—on the floor of the cavern lay a canvas pack, with its leather straps.

"He hasn't taken a thing!" broke out Robert.

And the two hurried out to where Marat stood waiting on the stream's bank.

Robert gave him the news.

"Ah!" said Marat. "He go for help to carry thee big load away."

But Robert's mind was full of another idea, and he said, "Captain Marat, suppose you and Carlos go and see if you can see anything of him out in the bay. I'll stay here. And if you see him going off in the canoe, send Carlos after me. If you don't see him, wait for me."

"Ver' well," said Marat.

And the two set off in the murk. They moved rapidly, alternately trotting and walking, intent on covering as much of the space between them and Duran as might be. And as they went, Marat—and Carlos as well—began to have an inkling of the thought that was in Robert's mind.

When they got to the water they quickly satisfied themselves that Duran's sturdy little canoe was gone from its place. Soon they were in the skiff and out on the bay. Swiftly they moved down the shore, looking over their shoulders now and again, for the sight of some dark object on the quiet surface of the water. They had hardly gone a mile when they rested on their oars, and took one good long look down the bay. Nothing showed.

Robert, in the meantime, squatted on the bank of the creek, and waited patiently for perhaps two hours. A tree-toad trilled out, now and then, to mingle his song with the music of the nearby cascade. The tree-tops hung over the stream with never a rustle, for the night breeze had not yet risen.

At last Robert became conscious of a new sound, seeming to come from some point way down the creek. In another minute it had grown more distinct, and he knew it for the gentle and regular dip of a paddle. And presently, a black mass showed between the banks. And then a canoe poked its nose to shore, not forty feet from where Robert crouched by the tree trunk.

The canoeist secured the painter to a root in the bank, and forthwith moved to the cascade. In five minutes that figure appeared again, and Robert saw him stoop over the edge of the canoe and distribute something on its bottom. When he went back a second trip, Robert made a hurried visit to the canoe and satisfied himself that it was the gold-laden bamboo that found placement there. Four trips that figure made, all told, and then loosed the painter and re-embarked, moving quietly down the stream in the dark.

Now, Robert took to the path and sped on down the way the others had gone. He found them awaiting him in the skiff.

"He's got all the gold in the canoe," Robert explained. "And he's on the way."

"Thad w'at I been thinking," said Captain Marat. "He go roun' by one lagoon an' fin' thee creek. I think I have see where thad lagoon, it go in. We go there an' see."

So the three set the skiff in motion, skirting the marsh-grass, till they came to where a narrow channel opened inland.

"Another one leedle more down," said Jean Marat; "maybe he come out thad one."

They had got the boat to within view of the opening of that next channel, when an object shot out from behind the grass.

"Down—queek!" spoke Marat, in a hurried whisper.

All ducked their heads and lay quiet for some minutes. Then they ventured to peer over the gunwale, and saw the canoe as a dark mass, moving steadily away down the bay.

"He didn't see us," observed Robert.

"No," agreed Marat, "fortunate' he did not look round."

There was little doubt as to Duran's destination, so the three made the passage leisurely down over the same route they had rowed that other night. And they turned the skiff up that same creek of the mainland. This time they were determined on a bolder move than before. They meant to risk discovery, and land with the boat on that little island, though under cover of night. Carlos and Robert—who, like myself, still retained his black-stained face and hands—were to remain in hiding throughout the coming day, and observe, if possible, how Duran should dispose of that gold he had taken from Carlos' mine. The while, Captain Marat would hold the skiff over at the mainland, ready to pick them up the following night, when Duran shall have departed from the island again.

They waited till midnight, and then rowed to the isle where Robert and Carlos disembarked.

"Two flashes will be the signal," said Robert in a whisper.

"All right," returned Marat. And he rowed away.

The two crawled into the shelter of the brush. In time, they had gained the clearing in which stood the little hut. No gleam of light shone there. Creeping close, they could hear the snoring of one, and the heavy breathing of another sleeper within. This was enough. They got to the shore again, and found where the skiff of the isle was lying on the beach.

"Well, Carlos," said Robert, "suppose we have a snooze. There won't be anything going on till daylight."

"Yes," agreed Carlos.

And they crawled into a close piece of underbrush.

Carlos was the first abroad when day had come. Robert missed him when he opened his eyes; but he had hardly finished rubbing the sleep from them when Carlos appeared, to say that the negro was already setting off in the skiff for a trip to mainland.

"That Duran is sending him off on an errand again," observed Robert, "so he will be alone to bury the gold."

"Yes," said Carlos. "I heard Duran say to him that he must not forget to bring the drug. He say something about someone who do not work anything without he have the drug."

Robert puzzled a moment over this intelligence, and then, seeming to give up the problem, he said, "well, let's have a bite and then see what Duran's up to."

Presently they got themselves behind a shelter, whence they could look out into the little clearing. Duran was nowhere in view. They waited patiently some minutes, and were rewarded with the spectacle of Duran coming into the clearing from a point to their left, and bearing on his back a heavy pack. He passed the cabin and moved to its north side. In ten minutes he returned without his burden, going back the way from which he had brought his load.

Now, when Duran had gone out of view again, they scurried round to a point of vantage situate to the northeast of the hut. So when Duran appeared with his next load, they followed him with their eyes till he disappeared in a thicket that debouched from the wood on the north into the clearing.

In a little, Duran again appeared. And he had no sooner vanished to the south for a third freight of the gold, than Robert and Carlos were startled with the spectacle of a naked, lithe, black body springing from the ground, as it seemed, and who stole snake-like to the edge of the thicket where Duran had gone in and out.

Our two looked at one another in their astonishment. It was evident there was at least one other than themselves spying upon Duran and his doings.

On an impulse, Robert took up a cudgel and threw it hard to the place that naked black had gone into. He immediately followed it with another missile. That black body suddenly appeared, like a rabbit flushed out of his brush, and sped for the shelter of the wood.

When Robert and Carlos came to the wood's edge, by the north shore, they saw the black head of a swimmer making haste across the bay.

"I wonder where he came from?" queried Robert.

"I don' know," said Carlos. "Maybe from the Orion."

"Well, we gave him a scare," said Robert. "He won't come back."

They got to their point of vantage again, and watched till Duran had taken into the thicket a fourth, and last burden. This time they had above an hour's wait for sight of him again. And now he bore a shovel, with which implement he disappeared into the cabin.

"I guess he's through with his job," observed Robert. And such was the case, for no more was seen of Duran for some hours; and then he appeared, but to go down to the south shore, apparently to look for the return of his black. That portly individual indeed showed up, down the bay, his oars rising and dipping leisurely. Robert and Carlos watched the landing of the skiff. For cargo, there was a coffee-sack, holding some parcels of stores. And the desired drug the black brought, too, for Carlos heard him report as much to Duran.

It was already past the middle of the afternoon when those two disappeared again in the cabin with the coffee-sack. From then till dark, neither showed a face except the once, when—near dark—the fat black came out for an armful of wood. And then the coming murk encouraged our two to creep closer, and they had their appetites set on edge by the smell of fresh-made coffee. They peeked through the window to see those within having their snack.

Duran rose from the table at last. Robert and Carlos were down by the shore when the canoe was pushed into the water, and Duran began his return voyage up Crow Bay.

The flash of Robert's light brought Marat over; and it was an interesting report Robert had to make to him as they propelled the skiff again on Duran's track.

"Ah, thad ver' good," said Captain Marat. "We find where he hide it now without much pain."

Duran's canoe was in its place near the bay end of that path; and within the hour the three were received by their comrades in the camp.