"And a good thing for us," said Si. "We can afford to lose a little dust, so long as we've found all the rest."
Going to a corner by themselves, they examined the contents of the bag with care. So far as they could remember, all of the nuggets were there, just as they had buried them. The gold dust was a little short, but not over two or three ounces.
"As Si says, that little don't count," said Maybe Dixon. "I am more than thankful we have all the rest."
"So say I," said Bob, and the other boys said the same.
It was a happy party that went to rest that night, close to the foot of the cliffs. Morgan Fitzsimmons was made as comfortable as possible, although some of the posse were in favor of hanging all four of the prisoners. Mark was utterly worn out and went to sleep quickly, despite the excitement through which he had passed.
The next morning Mark had an interview with Morgan Fitzsimmons. Like Soapy Gannon, the man from Philadelphia was utterly discouraged, and willing to do anything to make matters easy for himself.
"I need a doctor," said he. "I am all broke up."
"I'll get you a doctor, if you'll confess about that affair at my step-father's office in Philadelphia," answered Mark.
"All right, I'll do it. One more crime on my head won't count, I reckon. I took the money, just as you suspected. You can write out a confession, and I'll sign it in the presence of witnesses. Please get a doctor as soon as you can, and—and don't let them ha—hang me!" he whispered, pleadingly.
"They are not going to hang you," answered Mark.