"Neither did I!" affirmed Hank Shale slowly.
"There's the gold," laughed Frank, indicating the four sacks on the table.
"Coulson will be tickled to death," declared Bart Dawson. "He never expected either of us to see it again."
"There's a question we wanted to ask you," put in Frank. "Are you sure there isn't anybody else but Mr. Coulson sharing the gold with you?"
Fenton Hardy looked up startled. He could not imagine what this was leading to. As for Bart Dawson, he looked blank.
"Not that I know of," he said.
"Are you quite sure?"
"I'm certain sure. There's Coulson's brother did own a share of it, but he's dead, and there's Jadbury Wilson, my old pardner, but he's dead, too. That leaves only me and Coulson."
"Are you sure Wilson is dead?"
"Last we heard of him he was. He went East, they say, and died out there. I sure wish he could be here to-night. Poor old Jad—he worked so hard for his share of that gold, and never got none of it."