“Don’ yeh fool yo’se’f dat way, Marser Frank!” cried Toots, sitting up amid the fallen wheels. “Dat skillerton am de berry ol’ scratch hisse’f! De next thing some ob dis crowd will be disumpearin’ dat way. Gwan ter git kerried off, chilluns, if yo’ don’ git out ob dis in a hurry.”
“Oh, shut up!” snapped Diamond. “You make me tired with your chatter!”
“Mistah Dimund,” said the colored boy, with attempted dignity, “if yo’ll let dat debbil kerry yo’ off yo’ll nebber be missed—no, sar.”
Jack pretended he did not hear those words.
“Here goes to see what has become of the thing!” cried Frank, as he scrambled up to the niche where the skeleton had sat.
“I am with you!” cried Diamond, as he followed Frank closely.
Reaching the nook in the face of the cliff, they looked about for some sign of the skeleton that had been there a short time before, but not a sign of it could they see. The ghastly thing was gone, and the glittering ornaments had vanished with it. The block of stone on which the object had sat was still there.
“Well, fat do you whind—I mean what do you find?” cried Rattleton, impatiently.
“Not a thing,” was the disgusted reply. “It has gone, sure as fate!”
“So have my cigarettes!” groaned Browning.