“Good God!” he muttered. “Good God!” and stared down, fascinated, into the half-closed, lustreless eyes.
For the dead man was Dan Nolan.
Just how he had met death there at the bottom of that pit was never certainly known. Perhaps he had been sent down ahead to steady the chest in its descent and cast loose the ropes, and the chest had slipped or got beyond control of the men who were lowering it and crashed down upon him. Or perhaps he himself, helping to lower it, had lost his balance and fallen, only to be crushed by it as it, too, fell. His companions, terrified, no doubt, by the tragedy, had waited only to assure themselves that he was dead, and had then drawn up the ropes and fled.
Some of those who knew the story of Nolan’s treachery to the robbers, believed that it was not an accident at all, but that his companions had deliberately used this method of avenging themselves and getting rid of him, now that his usefulness to them was past. Whether by accident or design, certain it was that Nolan had met his end miserably at the very place where his captors had intended him to die.
As soon as Jed was got out of the pit, help was summoned, for the box was far too heavy for two men to raise. The news that it had been found spread like wildfire, and a regular procession started for the mouth of the old mine to see it recovered. Among them was the paymaster, and, as soon as the box was hauled up, he produced a key from his pocket, turned it in the lock, and threw back the lid.
“Good!” he said. “They didn’t stop to open it. Knew they ran the risk of being held up and searched, and didn’t want any of the stuff to be found on them. They certainly had every reason to believe that it was safely planted here.”
“They didn’t have time t’ open it,” said Jed. "That lock was specially made—see how it throws three bolts instead o’ one. Nobody could ’a’ picked it. Th’ only way they could ’a’ got that chest open was t’ blow it, like a safe, an’ I don’t suppose they was fixed fer that kind o’ work, comin’, as they did, straight from th’ pen."
“Or perhaps they was scared away by Nolan’s death,” added Jack. “I certainly wouldn’t ’a’ cared t’ stay here arter that!”
“Well, whatever the cause, the money’s here,” said the paymaster, and closed the lid again and locked it.