He had dug the gold from a hole close by. It was not refilled, and taking the bag he placed it in its former hiding-place and then threw the concealing articles over it; for the present they were safe.
Then going to the closed trap-door he placed his lips to a chink, and whispered: “Tim Simpson.”
Intending to give Kissie a glad surprise, he lowered his voice so she could not hear him from the other chamber.
“What’s wanted?” growled the guide, supposing one of his party was the speaker. He received no rejoinder. Pedro whispered again.
“Simpson—old friend.”
“Well, spit it eout!” sharply spoke the guide. “Don’t whisper, ‘Simpson,’ all day.
“Who spoke?” asked Burt.
“Dunno.”
“I heard a whisper,” said Jack.
“So did I; and I,” added several.