“Have you found the gold?” shouted Mr. Snodgrass, as he came running up.
“No, and it doesn’t look as though we would,” said Ned, half discouragedly. Then the professor was told of what had happened, and urged to remain near the others.
“Yes, we’ll find it!” declared Harvey Brill. “Even if it was washed out of the pocket where I hid it, we’ll find it sooner or later. Those nuggets can’t have been washed out of the valley.”
“But the valley is a big place, and besides, Noddy Nixon and his crowd may come back any time, and make trouble for us,” went on Ned.
“Oh, you must have a grouch!” exclaimed Jerry, with a grin. “Don’t cross the bridge of trouble until you hear the rustling of its wings,” he misquoted.
Once the excitement caused by Bob’s danger had passed, the party resumed the search for the gold. They followed the course of the flood, plainly visible, but, after looking carefully for some distance, they found nothing, and even Mr. Brill began to look disheartened.
“I think we had better bring the airship down this way,” suggested Jerry, late that afternoon, when they had gone about two miles from it. “We won’t do any more prospecting back there, and we might as well have the comforts of it with us, and not have to retrace our steps.”
They agreed with him, and alone Jerry went for, and brought up the Comet. Then, after a short search about the vicinity of her new anchoring ground, they gave up work for the day, as it was getting dark.
“We’ll find those nuggets sure—to-morrow!” declared Mr. Brill.
But they did not, nor on the next day, though they searched carefully. Even Professor Snodgrass forgot his desire for new specimens in the wish to help locate the treasure. But it seemed that it was gone forever, having been washed away by the flood and landslide, and deposited in some new hiding-place destined never to be found. Mr. Brill was much discouraged, and the others shared his feelings.