Joe swept the remaining stones out of the way and curled his fingers under the lid. Bracing himself against the floor of the cave, he heaved up with all his strength. There was a sharp tearing noise and the top cracked open.
“There!” said Joe, playing the flashlight down into the box. “That’s what all this has been about.”
Sandy gasped. The chest was full of neatly stacked bars of silver—much of it tarnished with age, but still recognizable.
For a moment nobody was able to speak. Sandy was the first to find his voice.
“Who does it belong to?” he whispered.
“To us,” Joe said firmly. “To all of us.”
“Us?” Sandy cried. “Why?”
“Because you helped me find it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Sandy started to say something but a familiar sound caught him up short. “Listen!” he said urgently. The others stood still and held their breath. “Do you hear it?” Sandy cried in excitement. “It’s the dogs. I can hear Drum!”
“They must be near the cave!” Mike shouted. The three of them wheeled and sprinted for the entrance, the treasure momentarily forgotten. “They’re getting closer!” Sandy yelled. In a final burst of speed, they scrambled up to the lip of the cave and broke out into the fading sunlight. Down at the bottom of the slope Sandy could see the first of the dogs coming around a turn in the trail. Drum was in the lead.