“The treasure will belong to us.”
“Hurrah!”
[CHAPTER IX.—A NIGHT ADVENTURE.]
Frank’s plan was carried out. All the treasure was removed from the cavern in which the mysterious old hermit was buried. The hermit’s horse was set free, and the boys carried the treasure to Ullin, Nevada, where it was shipped to Carson and deposited in a bank there.
“If it is not claimed in a year’s time, boys,” said Frank, “we will go about the work of having it evenly divided among us. In that case we will have made a good thing out of this trip across the continent.”
Nothing more was seen of the Indians, and the boys continued on their trip until Carson City was reached.
One evening Frank was strolling along alone when a shrill, piercing cry of pain, ending abruptly, cut the still evening air.
“Hello!” muttered Frank, as he paused to listen. “Something is wrong with the person who gave that call.”
He listened. In a moment the cry was repeated, and this time it ended with a distinct appeal for help.
Frank was unarmed, but he was aroused by the thought that a fellow being was in distress, and he ran quickly to a dark corner, from beyond which the cry had seemed to come.