“Ain’t no way of settlin’ that-thar idee o’ your’n,” Jake commented, with a cackle. “Guess as how I don’t pine to bet none.”
The two went on in silence after this, moving at a fair rate of speed, for the tunnel was only slightly encumbered with débris, but they did not permit haste to breed neglect of their purpose. Ever, as they went, they kept a careful lookout for aught that might by any possibility be a hiding-place for the miser’s gold. On either side, they looked, above, below—always in vain. Nowhere in the descent was there anything to suggest a receptacle for stores of precious metal. Suddenly, Saxe, who from his place in advance had been peering before him anxiously, spoke in a voice of discouragement:
“Jake, I believe we’re coming to the end of it.”
The boatman quickened his steps, and reached the speaker’s side. The two halted. By the light of their lanterns, they saw a wall of stone, which barred further passage. Here was, indeed, the end of the tunnel. Jake nodded his head.
“Yes,” he agreed, “it’s the end, sure enough.”
“The floor is broken!” Saxe cried, of a sudden. In an instant, he was surcharged with excitement. Jake, too, was thrilled. Together, they stared fixedly at the space that stretched level from their feet to the end of the tunnel. Wildest hope was welling in Saxe’s breast now. In the interstices of broken rock before him, imagination caught the yellow gleam of coins.
For, at this point, the floor of the cavern showed some evidence of containing a natural opening similar to that in the other passage, at the place where Roy had seen Masters. But, where the other opening had been plainly visible, and, in fact, only partially filled by the pieces of stone within it, this was full to the top with rock fragments, neatly compacted—so neatly compacted, in truth, that it were easy to suspect the cunning of man in their precise adjustment, rather than the haphazard of nature. Gazing down on that orderly arrangement, the two men became certain that here, at last, was the spot chosen by the dead miser for the concealment of his store. Yet, for a little, each hesitated to begin the examination that would prove conclusive. They were half-fearful of putting conviction to the test of proof. Perhaps, too, the delight of anticipation held them in thrall. Saxe walked slowly along one side of the broken place, until he came to the end of the tunnel. There, something in the rocky wall caught his attention, and he regarded the terminal formation more critically. Presently, he turned to Jake, and spoke with an air of triumph:
“I’m sure I was right about this passage running to the one where we found Roy. This is a continuation of the other. The opening in the floor here is the other half of the one into which Masters burrowed.”
“Well, maybe so, maybe so,” Jake replied, in a voice that was plainly skeptical. “But jest how do ye make out all that-thar information?”
“By my bump of location, chiefly,” Saxe admitted. “But there’s corroborative evidence in the fact that the wall here is only a big boulder, along with a lot of smaller stones which block the passage.”