It was soon after nightfall, Carlos—on the lookout—had heard Duran splashing in the creek, below the cascade, and he made out the ill-defined form of him as he moved away down the path in the murk. Carlos hurried over to the nook in the brush and made his report.
Duran's coming, of course, was expected—though he seemed a trifle early—and the plan of procedure had already been outlined. Grant Norris set off at once to again achieve that passage through the grotto and join Ray, who lingered at the cliff-top, where he had witnessed Duran's passage. Captain Jean Marat, Robert, and Carlos prepared to follow on Duran's trail.
But there was a circumstance troubled Carlos, and he had a word to say.
"Duran, he walk ver' light, an' it seem' he keep ver' straight," he began. "I think he do not carry anything."
"Let's go see!" said Robert.
And he and Carlos hastened into the cavern, where Robert threw his flashlight on the scene. There was that stack of gold-filled sections of bamboo, quite of the same size as they had seen it hardly more than two hours before. And more—on the floor of the cavern lay a canvas pack, with its leather straps.
"He hasn't taken a thing!" broke out Robert.
And the two hurried out to where Marat stood waiting on the stream's bank.
Robert gave him the news.
"Ah!" said Marat. "He go for help to carry thee big load away."