"Well, I reckon we've got it here."
The lad proceeded to search around with the care of a detective looking
for clues. He did find evidences of some one having been in the cave; he
found the handle of a dirk, a small bit of a deerskin hunting jacket,
and finally a little bit of pure gold. He examined the latter under his
lamp, satisfied himself that it was a nugget of real gold in its natural
state, and his heart beat fast.
"I've got it at last," he muttered; "yes, I thought I knew how to carry
on this search. Creedon must have done it too hurriedly."
Desmond felt quite proud of his success; he had struck it sure, as he
believed, and he continued his search, and was intently engaged when
suddenly he heard a sepulchral groan at the instant he had plunged into
a sort of pocket and was feeling around; but when he heard that groan he
started back into the cave and stood as white as a sheet gazing around
in every direction, and there was a wild terror in his eyes. He stood
for fully two minutes gazing and listening, and finally he said:
"Great Scott! what was that I heard--a groan?"
Desmond, although brave and vigorous, after all was but a lad of less
than eighteen.
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