The pin-spot of light grew and broadened, and, as they approached it, they saw it was the winter sky.  The sun was setting, for the clouds had cleared, and never was a sight half so beautiful to the anxious eyes that rested on it.  What did it matter that they were miles from the school, or that both were wet and cold and tired to the point of collapse?  Just to get out of that awful chasm was enough.

“I’ll go get your sled and pack the stuff on that,” proposed Bob, “I don’t suppose it would hurt to leave it there all night, but somehow I can’t.  Will you go on ahead, Betty?  You’re so tired.”

“I’m going back with you,” said Betty firmly.  “I couldn’t rest one minute, knowing you were crawling through that awful cave again.  Oh, yes, I’m coming with you, Bob—­you needn’t shake your head like that.”

Bob realized that it was useless to try to persuade her to go on to the school alone.  His common sense told him that it would be wiser to leave the treasure where it was and come after it the next day, but common sense does not always win out.  It was actually impossible for Bob or Betty to abandon the Macklin fortune now that they had found it.

Bob found Betty’s sled, after some search, where they had left it between two trees, and together they began to thread the tortuous maze of the cave again, Bob going ahead and dragging the sled after him.  Betty thought despairingly that she had never known what it meant to be tired before.

“I’ll wrap the little things in my middy tie,” she said when they came out in the chasm at last and found the heap of treasure where they had piled it, “and we can fasten down the rest of the stuff with the belt from my coat.”

Their fingers were stiff with cold, but they managed to get everything on the sled and lash it securely with a rope and the leather belt from Betty’s coat.  Then, once more, they started back through the cave.

The sled was heavy and the way seemed twice as long as the first time they had followed it, but they kept doggedly on.  It was dark when they emerged on the familiar hillside.

“Sit on the sled, and I’ll pull you, Betty,” offered Bob, looking a little anxiously at his companion’s white face.

But Betty resolutely refused, and she trotted beside him all the way, helping to pull the sled, till the gray buildings of Shadyside loomed up before them.

She insisted that Bob must come in with her, and they told their story to Mrs. Eustice, breathlessly and disconnectedly, to be sure, but the rope of emeralds and the gleaming diamonds filled in all gaps in the narrative.  Before she went to sleep Betty had the satisfaction of knowing that Norma and Alice had been told the good news and that a telegram was speeding off to the home folks.

The discovery and recovery of the missing treasure created a wave of excitement when it became generally known.  A few girls, who valued worldly possessions above everything else, made overtures of friendship to the sisters whom previously they had ignored.  Their old friends heartily rejoiced with them and Norma and Alice went about in a dream of bliss compounded of joy for their grandmother and parents, plans for new frocks and the proposed holiday trip to Washington.