“If it’s gold,” he cried, “it’ll turn green!”
He snatched up one, and poured the acid over it. And the six broke into a wild cheer as they saw the color come.
“Try another!” cried Mark.
For answer the Parson sprang forward and poured the contents of the bottle over the coins. Everywhere it touched the tarnished metal it showed the reaction. And the six locked arms and did a war dance about the place.
“We’re rich!” they cried. “We’re rich!”
And then they stole back to camp again.
CHAPTER IX.
DISCOVERY OF THE LOSS.
“This is where you wake up and find yourself rich; how do you like it?”
Mark, who asked the question, was yawning sleepily as he sat up from his bed, a pile of blankets on the floor of his tent. It was about five o’clock Sunday morning, and the booming echo of the réveille gun was still upon the air. Down by the color line a drum was still rattling, with a fife to keep it company. And throughout the camp cadets were springing up to dress, just as were the four we noticed.