“Yiminy!” he gasped, lifting himself higher.
Jackson Dane did not turn round, nor indicate in any way that he caught that unwise exclamation; though after events indicated that he must have heard it.
He went on quietly with his work of cacheing the bags of nuggets.
When he had finished, having been watched throughout by the baron with deep interest, Dane covered the cache, taking apparent care to obliterate all traces of what he had done; then he walked straight away, into the bushes growing beyond.
“Py yiminy, dhis iss a luckiness vor me!” gasped the baron. “I haf fint vhere he iss hide some goldt unt I vandt to know vot iss der meanness uff idt. Meppy I vill resurrecdion idt unt took idt in to Puffalo Pill. Yaw! Dot vouldt make his eyes standt oudt so beeg pesite his noses dot he couldn’t see.”
He was quivering with the excitement of his discovery.
He crawled from behind the bush which had covered him; then in a stooping position hurried up to the cache.
As he bent over it there was a flash and a report and the baron pitched forward on his face.
Jackson Dane had not only discovered him but had laid a trap for him and had shot him, discharging his revolver from a nest of bushes twenty yards away.
The baron came to himself by and by, feeling very dizzy at first and without knowledge of what had happened.