“Can’t see no treasures,” said Griggs gruffly; and directly after, “There aren’t a single shield—no spears—no swords—no breast-plates—no rifles.”
“Dear me!” said Chris sarcastically. “I wonder at that. How many revolvers can you see?”
“Nary one,” said Griggs coolly. “No gauntlets, no backpieces.”
Then there was a pause, before the searcher straightened himself up and said decisively—
“No, nothing.”
“How disappointing,” cried Ned. “But what about all those stones?”
“To be sure. You don’t call them nothing?” cried Chris.
“No; there’s plenty of them, my lads, and plenty of something else underneath them, I’ll be bound, if any one thought it worth while to clear out this cellar.”
“But what do you think now, Griggs?” cried Chris eagerly.
“Same as I did before, my lad. I shouldn’t like to guess, but you may feel sure that many a savage came to his end here and lies covered in by these stones. The people who defended this place from up yonder must have showered the stones down when they were attacked. There, it’s of no use for me to stop down here. Are you two going to haul me up, or am I to climb?”