“This is no cave. The walls have been hewn, and the ceiling is arched.”
“It may be the lost mine!”
“I suspect so,” Jack agreed cheerfully. “While you’re getting that rope, I’ll see what I can learn.”
Venturing forward, the youth flashed his light over one of the side walls. Distinctly, he could make out ancient pick marks.
That the tunnel was an old one he no longer had the slightest doubt. Mr. Livingston had told him that the Spaniards, being amateurs at mining, had used the tunnel method in their quest for emeralds.
Focusing his beam ahead of him, he walked until his way was blocked by earth and debris. Unable to proceed farther, he returned to find his friends anxiously lowering a knotted rope through the opening.
“It’s the lost mine!” Jack reported jubilantly. “I’m sure of it!”
“Bring up a handful of emeralds,” Ken shouted with a laugh.
“Toss down a pick and I’ll try!”
“There’s no time for exploration,” Mr. Livingston objected. “We’re mighty lucky to have found the mine!”