“It’ll open again fast enough for what’s in this box,” Roy retorted. “You hurry up that cable, Jake.”
“I’ll go with him,” David said. “It may need more than the cable length for the business, it’s quite a stretch up that slope.” Roy nodded assent, and the two hastened off.
During their absence, Roy, with the assistance of Saxe, busied himself in arranging a smooth plane of stones in that end of the pit nearer the ascent, in such fashion as to afford an easy slide for the chest. Soon, the cable was brought, and, while the others devoted themselves to the adjustment of this, Jake departed on his mission to the Landing.
The workers in the tunnel found themselves confronted with serious difficulty when it came to passing the rope underneath the chest. It required the joint efforts of the four, though Billy Walker’s aid was not contributed without expostulation against the uselessness of this part of the labor. In the end, however, what by great exertion on the part of each and by the employment of the pickaxes as levers and bits of rock as supports, the task was achieved, and the rope was got in position under the chest. The remainder of the business was simple enough. In a short time, the box was firmly set within the hempen bands, knotted with seamanlike smartness by Roy, and the main length of the cable was free for adjustment to block and tackle. The extent of it, to Roy’s relief, proved ample for the purpose, and forthwith he and David carried the free end of it up the slope to the level of the chamber, in quest of some projection of rock to which the hook of the block might be made fast. Saxe and Billy remained below, beside the treasure-chest.
Saxe lighted another cigarette, Billy had recourse to one of his customary black cigars, and the two smoked contentedly in silence. Saxe could hear indistinctly from time to time the movements of Roy and David, busy on the level above. And then, presently, his ears detected another sound. He listened—idly at first, soon with growing interest, finally with intent curiosity, which swiftly became excitement. The noise was faint, intermittent, yet persistent. In his earlier attention to it, Saxe found difficulty in locating the direction whence the sound issued, but, later on, he became sure that it had its origin somewhere in the other passage, beyond the barrier that divided the pit into two parts. The fact filled him with amazement. He knew the whereabouts of all in his own party. He could still hear Roy and David, active on the level above; Billy Walker was there present with him by the pit; Jake, ere this, was on his way to the Landing in the launch. It was impossible that the boatman should have disobeyed instructions, to return into the other passage for some mysterious purpose of his own. But, since all the members of his party were thus accounted for, the explanation of that persistent sound there beyond the barrier became more difficult. It was certain that someone was occupied at the end of the other passage. Who, then, could that person be? It could not be Margaret, the only other who knew the entrance to the cavern. No, not the only other who knew—there was Masters! On the instant, as the thought came, Saxe knew that the enemy was again at work.
The reason baffled the listener. What could the man of treacherous schemes be doing thus on the wrong side of the barrier? Saxe felt the puzzle too hard for his solving, and turned to Billy Walker, seeking the light of pure reason to clear away the mists of darkness with which the event was shrouded. The sage was nodding in somnolent relaxation, though still puffing his cigar.
“Wake up, Billy!” Saxe called, softly.
The dozing man straightened, and the small eyes opened on the disturber in an indignant stare.
“I’m not asleep,” he remarked crossly, following the universal habit of denial in such case.
“Well, then, listen,” Saxe requested. “Don’t you hear that noise—like somebody pounding?”