"I'll be perfectly safe if I try to find the rifle now," said Tom, as he began beating around through the bushes. "By George! I hope they haven't carried the gun off with them. They couldn't, for their packs were too heavy."
Here was a new apprehension, and it started Tom to work with increased speed; and it was only after an hour's steady search that he found the gun hidden where nobody would have thought of looking for it. It was uninjured, and this made it plain that the only object the robbers had in view was to rob Elam.
"They've got just sixteen skins or I'm mistaken," said Tom, shouldering his recovered rifle and retracing his steps to camp. "Sixteen skins at forty-five dollars would be worth seven hundred dollars and better. That's quite a nice little sum to rake out before dinner. Now, my next care is to examine that bag."
Arriving at the wood-pile, the bag was taken out and carried into the cabin. Tom caught it by the bottom and emptied its contents on the table, first taking care, however, to place his rifle across his knees, where it could be seized in case of emergency. He was surprised at the contents of the little bag. In the first place there was some money tightly wrapped up in folds of buckskin, and when Tom unfolded it to see how much there was, two yellow-boys rolled out.
"Hurrah! Here's something to pay for the stolen skins," said Tom, and, hastily putting the money into his pocket, he caught up his rifle and hastened out of doors to listen for some sounds of the returning robbers. Everything was silent. The men were gone, and Tom had nothing to do but to examine the bag in peace.
"I am glad they didn't do anything more," thought he, as he went in and seated himself at the table. "If they had wanted to do mischief, they might have pulled a chunk from the fire and set the whole thing to going, but instead of doing that they just contented themselves with robbing us. Forty dollars. Where did they get it? Two gold eagles and bills enough to make up the balance. Here's tobacco enough to last both of them a week; needles and thread, so it don't seem to me that they ought to have been satisfied to go around with their jackets full of holes, as I saw them, and——What's this? It's something pretty precious, I guess, because it is wrapped up tightly."
It was a small parcel tied up in buckskin that caught Tom's eye just then. It was so neatly wrapped up in numerous folds that by the time Tom got them unfolded he fully expected to find some quartz or some more gold pieces; but when he brought it to light, there was nothing but a little piece of paper, with ordinary lines drawn upon it. Did he throw it away? He spread it out upon the table as smoothly as he could, and set to work to study out the problem presented to him. One thing was plain to him: the line which ran up the middle, paying no attention to other lines which came into it at intervals, was a gully. Right ahead it went until it branched off in two places, and there it stopped. What did it mean?
"It means something, as sure as I am a foot high," said Tom, settling back in his chair and holding the paper up before him. "There is something buried there, and how did these people come by it? I guess that Elam had better see that."
Filled with excitement, Tom bundled the things back into the bag, and put the bag into his pocket, wondering what sort of history those two men had passed through. Did they know anything about the nugget? The idea was ridiculous, simply because there were some marks on a paper which he did not understand.
"There was only one of them who escaped with the nugget, and he buried it within ten miles of the fort," said Tom. "And Elam says, further, that he was so sick and tired when he was relieved that he could not draw a map to lead anyone to it. No matter; there's something there, and I am in hopes it will——By George! they are coming back."