“I knew they’d look for the gold sooner or later,” declared one of the party.
“Well, you were right after all, Noddy,” came the retort. “And now we’ve got to consider how we can get it away from them. I guess the mounted police will be our best play.”
Meanwhile Jerry and his friends were finding nugget after nugget. They were considerably scattered by the flood, but once the gold had rolled out of the box, it had sunk, and had not been carried more than a comparatively short distance.
“Well, if we had three more we’d have ’em all,” said Bob, toward the close of that memorable day. “We have fifty-seven so far.”
“Fifty-eight!” cried Ned quickly, as he stooped and held up another of the yellow lumps. “We only need two more.”
“Let’s let them go,” suggested the stout lad. “I’m afraid our grub——”
“Drop that, Chunky!” cried Jerry. “We’ll stay until we get the whole sixty nuggets, if we have to live on half rations!”
Bob groaned, and hastened off to the kitchen to take an account of the food remaining. He came back, looking rather serious, but said nothing.
“Those two last nuggets aren’t so very large,” suggested Mr. Brill. “If you boys want to go back——”
“We’ll get ’em all!” exclaimed Jerry. “The folks back home expect us to, and we will. Why, there’s no special hurry, and I’m sure we’ll find them soon. I——”