“I’m a little husky myself,” admitted Henri, “and wouldn’t mind spending a few franc pieces for a pitcher of lemonade”—jingling the gold in his pockets.
“That reminds me,” he continued, “that I’m thinking that it would be a good plan to bury this stuff right where we are. There is no telling what kind of a chase we will have getting back to camp, and it would be rough luck to chance losing that for which we have risked so much.”
“But that means another trip here,” argued Billy, “and it’s me for one with no wish to haunt this territory.”
Reddy turned a torrent of French loose on Henri.
“He says,” Henri translating to Billy, “that to-night he will take to the woods alone, reach Colonel Bainbridge and tell him of our troubles, and it may be that sufficient force could be sent to pull us lambkins and the treasure out of the hole.”
“Bet the colonel will do it!”
Billy enthusiastically approved the scheme.
“Come to think of it, though,” he amended, “if it isn’t unfair to Reddy I think it is a great idea.”
“Don’t you worry about Reddy,” assured Henri, “he is better off around here without us than we would be without him.”
“Then the only thing on my mind now is one big drink of cold water.” Billy drew a long breath at the thought.