Now, as Curlie dug, her hopes rose and fell. So, too, did Curlie’s, for the success or failure of this enterprise meant much to him. True, his youthful employer had sworn to stand by him; but this did not remove from Curlie’s shoulders the responsibility of having allowed a priceless package to escape from the hands of the law and come into the possession of those who openly regard themselves as enemies of the Government he gladly served.
For a long time the shovel uncovered nothing. They were beginning to despair when at last it touched something hard.
“At last!” Curlie breathed hard.
“If only it is!” The girl’s eyes shone.
A moment of furious digging and then they uncovered—not the parcel-post package, but something long and slim, done up in oilskin.
“That,” said Curlie in disgust, “may interest some one. It does not interest me.”
He threw it down on the sand.
The girl took the trouble to unwrap it, but was hardly more impressed when she found it contained a very old and much tarnished telescope.
“Oh, well,” she sighed, replacing it in its oilcloth covering, “we’ll take it along. May interest father.”
“We may as well have a look at that thing over there,” said Curlie with a sigh. “I don’t know of anything more exciting to do just now.”