“Don’t be too sure that there’s nothing else,” said Fred. “It’s so dark in here that we can’t see anything but the rough outlines. Who has some matches?”
“Here you are,” replied Lester, producing an oilskin pouch from an inside pocket.
Fred struck one, and as it flared up, five eager pairs of eyes scanned the wall in front.
But while it brought into greater distinctness the main features that they had already seen, the map seemed to reveal nothing more and there was a general sigh of disappointment.
“Why didn’t that fellow go a little further while he was about it?” groaned Teddy.
“If he had only told us not only what it looked like, but where it was,” mourned Lester.
“It’s maddening to get so close and yet miss the one thing that would clear it all up,” complained Bill.
“I can understand now how Tom Bixby felt, when Dick was just on the point of telling him where the gold was hidden,” said Lester.
“I’m not giving it up yet,” declared Fred with determination, “and I’ll not, until I have used up every match we have with us. Even after that, I’ll get a torch somewhere and keep on looking.”
But several more matches struck in quick succession 229 were of no more value than the first, and the boys’ hearts went down.