"Well," said Piper, stiffly, "it looked mighty suspicious."
"Like the other night," snapped Hackett.
"Oh, come now," put in Bob Somers, "a wretched joke like this is enough to put any one in a bad humor, but there's no use in quarreling."
"That's right, Somers," observed Robson, thoughtfully, "and we can't find out anything by talking here all day."
"Jest so," sighed Yardsley. "We might as well git back."
"We come out with great hopes," sighed Yardsley, as he pushed open the cabin door. "Bless me, it was mean—give me the shovels, mates. I'll put 'em in the storehouse."
He opened the door which led to it, then the others heard a sharp exclamation.
"What's up now?" called Bob.
Yardsley did not answer, but hurriedly crossing the room, opened the outer door, admitting a flood of daylight. Then, almost speechless with astonishment, he stood, staring about him with wide-open eyes, while the others crowded in.
"What is it?" cried Bob—he stopped short, with a gasp.