"Let's dodge the town altogether for the present, and go around it, and find a spot where we can camp for the night. Then in the morning we can follow the river up its course till we come to the bend mentioned in the note on the back of the map," suggested Dick.
This suggestion met with the approval of the others, and so they circled Jennings, and found a desirable place to sleep and eat.
Sun-up found them awake, and after a hasty breakfast, so anxious were they to find the mine, they made for the river bank, without losing time.
Up the river they went, getting more and more excited with each step. A walk of less than an hour brought them to what was unmistakably the bend in the river that was the first mark noted in the note. Here, using the sun as a guide, they proceeded east for the necessary two miles. True enough, here was a ravine, small enough, but still a ravine. The region was only sparsely wooded, and the boys knew enough about geology, which they studied the preceding winter at school, to know that the formation of the land in that section was quite rocky, there being evidence of much granite.
"You don't suppose the old chap that fixed that note was mixed in his terms through ignorance, and meant that there was a good granite quarry there, do you?" asked Dick dubiously.
"Never can tell," answered Garry. "Only thing to do is follow directions and see what happens."
Following directions, they paced about a mile and a half, keeping a sharp lookout for the triangle of stumps. To make sure they would not miss it, they deployed and marched about twenty paces distant from each other. Phil was the one to spy the landmark. His shouts brought the others running to him.
"Let's dig, and dig quick," pleaded Phil. "I want to see if we've found a fortune, or are only the victims of a practical joke, or gigantic hoax."
The others were as curious as he, and using their axes, as a sort of combined pick and shovel, dug away at the ground surrounded by the stumps. In a few minutes, Phil's axe struck something hard, and abandoning his axe, he scratched the earth away with his fingers. The hard something was a tin can, evidently, about which had been wound several feet of tape such as is used to repair bicycle punctures and such. Fishing his knife from his pocket, Phil proceeded to cut away the taping, while the others, with bated breath, awaited the result of the find. It took some minutes to scrape and cut away the hardened tape, but at last it was accomplished.
Tearing the cover from the can, they found an old envelope, which was soon opened, disclosing a letter, written in the same cramped hand as was the note whose directions had guided them there. It said: