Dismounting, both boys scrambled a few feet up the face of the cliff to the streak.
“It isn’t blood, but it’s queer,” said Ted. “Here’s a chunk I can get. It will make a good paper-weight.” And after much prying and rapping with his hunting-knife, he succeeded in obtaining a piece of the curious-looking quartz as large as a hen’s egg. “My, but it’s heavy,” he announced, as he put it in his pocket and then promptly forgot it.
At the cabin they found not only Andy and Chester and their family anxiously awaiting them, but Mr. Hopkins.
“Thank goodness, you are back safe,” exclaimed Mrs. Porter. “I was so worried.”
“It was a bit risky for you two boys,” commented the wealthy wheat-grower. “The miscreants would probably have been more glad to hurt you than your dam.”
“Don’t baby them, Mr. Hopkins,” exclaimed Margie. “I don’t believe they searched at all. Probably they hid until it was time to come back. I know I could have found something if—”
“Is that so, Miss Smarty? Well, we did find something; see?” flared Ted. And he drew the chunk of quartz from his pocket, displaying it mockingly.
Amused, the others gazed at the stone, then suddenly Andy exclaimed:
“Let me see it.”
“Look out, it’s heavy,” laughed the boy, as he tossed it to the agent.