Bob nodded, then quickly dived into his pocket, and extricated therefrom sundry rounded stones, and showed them to Phil.
"Are these any good?" he asked. "I picked them up on the other side of the mountain the first day we arrived, and had forgotten all about them."
"They're exactly the same, Bob," returned the geologist, with a smile, "and they come from the same source, apparently."
"Let us know your plan, Jim, and we'll make an effort to get away if it is possible," urged Bentley. "But I won't budge unless we agree to make an even divide of the treasure of the Never Never." And the sharing of the spoil was insisted upon with happy unanimity.
It was now about ten o'clock in the evening and Mackay pushed open the door and looked out; the air was close and sultry as if presaging a thunderstorm, and a heavy, dark cloud suspended over the little valley; in the gloom near the tunnel several forms were to be seen flitting about. He returned into the room with a smile on his lips.
"We're goin' to have rain, I think," he announced, "an' I shouldn't wonder if there's a bit o' thunder along wi' it. The elements will fight on our side, boys; we'll just give them a bit o' a start. An' now, Dick," he added, eyeing his old leader quizzically, "did I no' see you lookin' at us when we were blowing chunks o' Australia into the air this morning?"
"I saw you making a tomb for poor Never Never Dave," answered Bentley, sadly.
Emu Bill groaned and Mackay sighed deeply.
"But that was yesterday, Dick. What about this morning?"
"Yes, I noticed you this morning, too; but I only heard one explosion, and didn't think anything of it."