"And you all have an interest in it—you shall share the treasure with me—"
"No, we don't," shouted the boys. "We've had more than a million dollars worth of fun out of it already."
"Certainly not," added the Professor.
"We'll discuss that later," said Mr. Marquand firmly. "Just now we must take care of what we have found. Who will get the bags?"
"We will," answered the boys promptly.
"No; you stay here. I'll get them," answered Kris Kringle. "Light me up the stairs so I don't break my neck in this old rookery."
One of the boys lighted the way to the next floor, then stepped back into the cellar, where Mr. Marquand was turning over the treasure in an effort to find out if the pile extended all the way to the bottom of the chest.
In the meantime Kris Kringle unbarred the door and threw it part way open. He did it cautiously, as if half expecting trouble.
He threw the door to with a bang, springing to one side, and dropping the bar back into place.
The reason for his sudden change of plans was that no sooner had the door opened than several thirty-eight calibre bullets were fired from the sage brush outside.