Robert Menden was feeling better, and presently he said he felt strong enough to walk to their camp. He leaned on old Jacob's arm, while the boys carried the treasure between them. The rope was left dangling in the water. "So that poor Dick can use it, if he comes around," as Bob said, clutching at a hope that was vain-less.
Night found them established in a new camp, still sad, and next to silent. They had the treasure safe, but at what a fearful cost.
"It's enough to make one fling it away," sighed Bob. And when Robert Menden began to count up the gold, he turned away, unable to endure the sight.
CHAPTER XXXII.
WHAT BECAME OF DICK.
"Where on earth, or under the earth, am I now?"
It was Dick who uttered the remark, as he crawled out of the stream, and sat down on a slippery and slimy rock.
The tumble over the ledge had been broken by a fall into the underground stream, and he had been hurled along by the current for a distance of fully two hundred feet.
He had felt that he was drowning and could hold his breath no longer, when he had shot up into pitch dark space, and climbed onto the rock mentioned.
He was almost exhausted, and for several minutes could do little but pant and hold on.
He had not the slightest idea where he was, saving that he had reached some lower shaft of the gigantic cave.