For a moment or two the three could not realize the truth of the crushing discovery which they had made. The precious gold dust and the nuggets were gone—not a grain of their wealth remained. It was too awful to be true.
"Gone!" gasped Maybe Dixon, and staggered to a rock and dropped down. "Who did this?" He leaped up, a cold glitter in his eyes. "Show me the rascal and I'll kill him on the spot!"
"More than one rascal did this," said Mark, pointing to the pick and shovels. "Looks like three to me."
"And they worked fast too," came from Bob. "They just threw the dirt any way, so as to get to the bottom of the hole."
"They must have been watching us," went on Mark. "As soon as the landslide came they took advantage of it."
There followed a silence, nobody knowing what to say next, or what to do. Then Mark gave a start.
"We are forgetting poor Si!" he cried. "We must try to find him. Perhaps he is in trouble and needs help."
"That is true," answered Bob. "Let us go down to the bottom of the landslide."
"But our gold?" demanded Maybe Dixon. "What of the rascals who took it?"
"We can follow them up afterwards—if we can find the trail."