before, they had been stolen. I would try to guess whence they came
from a jewelled chalice in some dim cathedral, from the breast of
a great lady, from the hilt of an admiral's sword.

After another hour I lifted my aching shoulders and, wiping the
sweat from my eyes, looked over the edge of the hole. Rupert, with
his back to the sand-hill, was asleep. Edgar with one hand was
waving away the mosquitoes and in the other was holding one of the
magazines he had bought on the way down. I could even see the page
upon which his eyes were riveted. It was an advertisement for
breakfast food. In my indignation the spade slipped through my
cramped and perspiring fingers, and as it struck the bottom of the
pit, something --a band of iron, a steel lock, an iron ring-- gave
forth a muffled sound. My heart stopped beating as suddenly as
though Mr. Corbett had hit it with his closed fist. My blood turned
to melted ice. I drove the spade down as fiercely as though it was
a dagger. It sank into rotten wood. I had made no sound; for I
could hardly breathe. But the slight noise of the blow had reached
Edgar. I heard the springs of the hack creak as he vaulted from it,
and the next moment he was towering above me, peering down into the
pit. His eyes were wide with excitement, greed, and fear. In his
hands he clutched the two suit-cases. Like a lion defending his
cubs he glared at me.

"Get out!" he shouted.

"Like hell!" I said.

"Get out!" he roared. "I'll do the rest.