“I guess the worst is over,” observed Ned.
“I hope so,” murmured Jerry. “If there’s any more to come I don’t want to be in it.”
“Look where we came down!” exclaimed Bob, pointing upward.
They had been carried down the side of Thunder Mountain for nearly a thousand feet, the advance guard, so to speak, of one of the worst landslides in that part of the country. Only because the slide had pushed them ahead of it, surrounding them with soft bushes which acted as a screen, had they been able to live through it.
They looked about them in a daze. And it was still in a daze that Bob looked at some object resting on its side near a great blue rock. It was an object that caused him to look a second time and then a third. And after that he cried in a hoarse voice:
“The treasure chest! There it is! Fellows, we’ve found it!”
He pointed a trembling finger at a small, but strong, wooden box which lay amid the débris brought down the slope of Thunder Mountain by the landslide.