Something came slowly to the surface.
“Oh, fudge! It’s an anchor—it is a piece of iron,” grumbled Stacy.
“Yes, but it isn’t an anchor,” answered Hippy excitedly.
“Boys, you have pulled up an iron box. Can you get it aboard?” cried Tom.
On the box, in yellow letters, was the name of a well-known express company. The box was securely locked, and apparently the lock had not been tampered with.
“We’ve made a find!” cried Stacy.
“Loot of some sort,” agreed Tom. “That is a money chest, probably of the same sort that the Red Limited was carrying when the bandits attacked our train between Summit and Gardner. There is undoubtedly another one like it at my end of the log, but the question is what are we going to do with our find.”
“What are we going to do with it? Why, we’re going to open it, of course,” declared Stacy. “If there is loot in it, findin’s is keepin’s so far as Stacy Brown is concerned.”
Tom was of the opinion that they had no right to open the chest, but suggested that they take it and whatever else they might find, to a safe place and bury it, and then get word to the authorities.
“I believe you have the right thought,” nodded Hippy, after a moment’s reflection. “There can be no doubt that this is stolen property, not the least doubt in the world. Therefore we are not taking another man’s property—we are trying to save stolen property. Come, Stacy, let’s give it another haul, then try to lift it aboard.”