They could hear him plainly; for in his haste the man crashed through any and all obstructions that came in his way. Several times from the sounds it would appear as though he must have fallen. On each occasion, however, he evidently recovered himself, and continued the flight.
“What’s he going to do, Frank?” he managed to ask, as he kept alongside the other.
“Horses below somewhere!” came the short reply, showing that Frank himself had been figuring on the meaning of the man’s actions.
“We’re gaining some, aren’t we?” Bob went on, eagerly; for he was now deeply interested in the result of the chase.
“Yes, that bag holds him back some,” answered the other.
Bob could well understand that. If it weighed about sixty pounds it was no little handicap for the fellow who was heading down the slope of the hill. And little wonder that he pitched headlong several times.
It looked as though the treasure taken from the Cherry Blossom strong room was fated to be recovered piecemeal. Here was one sack; another still lay on the floor of the shack above, while the hiding place of the third still remained a mystery to be solved later on.
All at once the plunging ceased, and there was silence. So profound was this that Bob could hear the fret and murmur of the falling water not far away.
“That last tumble must have settled him, Frank!” he gasped; for the sudden silence had indeed been preceded by a crash of unusual violence.
“Perhaps that’s so,” Frank admitted; “or else he’s trying a change of tactics!”