“Well, so be,” the boatman commented placidly, “I don’t calc’late as how it makes a mighty sight o’ difference, one way or t’other. The p’int is, what in tarnation’s under here?”
“Of course,” Saxe conceded. “Merely, it pleases my vanity to have been right.” He came to the old man’s side, and spoke with a quick sharpness in his tone: “And now, Jake, let’s find out if there’s anything here.”
A few blows from the pickaxes loosened the closely packed pieces of stone. The two then began to cast out these to one side. They found the work simple enough, though fatiguing, for many of the rocks were of formidable weight; but all were lying loosely, once the top layer had been removed.
Saxe paused for a brief rest, after having with difficulty heaved a huge stone from the pit.
“Mr. Abernethey never could have handled these,” he exclaimed. “The idea is absurd.”
The boatman shook his head in emphatic denial.
“Don’t you go worrying yourself none over that,” he counseled. “That-thar old man was a wonder in some ways. He was mighty powerful in his arms and chist. I seen him oncet lift a barrel o’ vinegar up by the chines into a wagon. I reckon he acquired consid’ble muscle from the pianner; he used to wallop it some tremendous, I tell you! Yep, he could h’ist out a heftier rock nor you or me.”
This information quickened Saxe’s hope, and he toiled on with increased energy. The boatman showed an equal zeal. The pit grew deeper momently. Suddenly, Jake gave forth a great shout:
“Jumpin’ Jehosaphat! We’ve struck it!” He straightened up, his face creased with innumerable wrinkles of happiness as he looked across the pit at Saxe.
The heir of Abernethey was beside the speaker within the second. As he bent forward, following the boatman’s gesture, he saw, in the open place left by the removal of the stone, a surface of oak. He understood that this must be the cover of a chest. An exclamation of triumph broke from his lips. He made no effort to conceal his agitation.