“Nothing in there at all?” Douglas asked.
Vench went around and opened the door. “Looks like a couple of bags of potatoes in one corner,” he called.
They thronged in the narrow door and Don poked one shoe against the bags in the corner. Then, as a look of understanding passed over his face, he turned swiftly to the others.
“Here are the eagles!” he cried.
“I thought as much,” whooped Hudson, tearing at the mouth of the bag nearest him. “Sure enough, here they are.”
They swiftly tore the sacking away and the brass eagles were disclosed, swathed in straw. A thorough examination showed that they had not been damaged.
“So here is where they were taken,” murmured Vench, looking around the hut.
“Yes, and who would ever think of looking for them out here?” put in Douglas. “If it hadn’t been for Jim’s chance discovery we would never have thought to look here.”
“Things worked out in great shape all around,” Jim said. “Well, now that we have the big birds, what—”
“Look!” cried Don, suddenly. “Here come some men!”