"Blame my hide, if it ain't a bag of money!" cried Bulger.
"Money!" cried Parker. "Then we'll divvy up."
"No, we won't divvy nothin'. Findin's is keepin's. I wonder if there's any more?"
Down he got on his hands and knees and scratched in the dust, bringing to light a second bag.
"Hurray! Another! I'm made for fair. Here's a third and there's more underneath. I'm rich!"
Dick beheld all this with feelings of the greatest astonishment. Bags of money hidden in the roots of the dead tree! Then the gypsy woman's prediction occurred to him like a flash. This was his fortune, then, and these rascals had brought it to light. What was on his property belonged to him by right of ownership in all. And now these fellows had it in their clutches, or rather Bulger had it, and seemed disposed to hold on to all of it. That was too much for Dick to stand. He was about to rush on Bulger and order him to give up the money when Parker snatched up a couple of the bags.
"Drop them!" roared Bulger.
"I'm only takin' my share," said Parker.
Bulger sprang up and jumped at the ex-convict, who had to let the bags fall to defend himself. In another moment they were both at it, hammer-and-tongs, with the advantage in Bulger's favor, owing to his build and strength. Dick saw his advantage. Dashing forward, he picked up the long stick which lay on the ground and began laying it on the heads and shoulders of the two fighters. That brought the scrap to a sudden end, and the men turned to face this new and unexpected trouble. They at once recognized Dick, and as they bore him no good will, Bulger particularly, they lost no time in making a rush at him.