"I reckon I want to lie down an' die somewhere," muttered Emu Bill, feebly blinking his eyes at the dazzling spectacle.
"How much do you think you've got here, Dick?" said Mackay, calmly.
Bentley smiled. "Just about a hundredweight, I calculate," he answered. "But it is no earthly good to us. We can't carry it away, even if we had the chance."
Mackay looked perplexed, and for a few moments seemed to be struggling with a mighty problem.
"The weight wouldna' be much among the lot o' us," he murmured at length, "but—but it hurts me sair to think o' leaving a' that stuff in the mountain."
"Don't let that worry you, old man," broke in Bentley hastily. "If you've got a scheme for escape, let us act upon it without delay; there's more than any of us will ever need in this shanty besides gold. Show him the collection, Phil."
Without a word Phil drew forth a short, deep case made of plaited twigs from a recess under the table, and threw open the lid, exposing a mass of red, blue, and yellow tinted pebbles.
"There you are, Mac," said he, "they don't look anything special in their present rough state, but they're worth a long way more than a hundredweight of gold, and certainly very much more portable. They are rubies and sapphires, and I think there are some diamonds among them. There's surely enough here to go round without bothering about more, though I can show you where to get them to-morrow if you want a bigger stock."
"To-morrow, Phil," said Mackay, with decision, "we'll be marching along homeward bound, if we're no' lying perforated wi' arrows in some corner o' the tunnel. We'll help you to carry the treasure, an' maybe afterwards we'll come back an' get some for oursel's. Isn't that right, Bob?"