Nelse seized the first opportunity to search with his eyes for something which would serve as a torch, but the floor of the tunnel was as clean as though swept with a broom, and he said to Gil:
“There isn’t so much as a twig here, but I reckon we can afford to use a few matches so’s you can find out what you’ve got. Send it up, an’ I’ll soon see if it is the article we’ve been hunting for.”
“Lower the rope, and I’ll bring it.”
“How far down are you?” the sailor asked, as, the match having been consumed, he crept toward the aperture.
“I can’t tell, but it seemed as if I fell a long distance. We’ll soon find out if you’ll give me the chance.”
Nelse paid out on the rope until he was certain not less than fifteen feet had been lowered into what he hoped would prove to be a veritable treasure chamber, and then Gil shouted:
“Hold on, I’ve got enough. You’ll have to pull me up, for I want to come with both hands full.”
“Make it fast under your arms, and I reckon we’ll be able to manage the rest.”
This portion of the work was quickly accomplished, and when Gil stood beside his companions the sailor would have lighted another match if the boys had not prevented him.
“Wait until we are at the entrance, and then, perhaps, the same light will show us materials for a torch,” Nelse said, as he seized Gil’s arm, hurrying him toward the shaft.