“Here’s a queer go!” muttered the former bully of Putnam Hall.  “I suppose they shot Grinder.  If they did, they ought to suffer for it.  I guess—­Hullo, what’s up out there?”

A scuffle outside of the shelter had reached his ears.  Bill Harney had been standing close to some firewood, and without warning Sam had rushed at the big guide and sent him sprawling backward.

“Hi! stop him!” yelled the guide, as he started to struggle to his feet.  But before he could get up, Sam had taken time by the forelock and disappeared into the timber skirting the pond.

CHAPTER XXX.

A successful search—­conclusion.

When Sam escaped from big Bill Harney he had but one purpose in view, and that was to reach Dick and the others just as soon as possible and acquaint them with the turn affairs had taken.

He had a fairly good idea of the direction the others had taken, and knew that their tracks in the snow would be plain to follow.  The main thing at the start was to keep out of sight of the enemy.

In doing this, he had not only to avoid Harney and Baxter, but also Husty, providing that individual was anywhere around, which was probable.  Consequently, although he traveled as fast as the deep snow permitted, he kept a sharp lookout on every side.

The youth soon circled the lower shore of Bear Pond, and he found the trail he was seeking.  It led directly to the westward, and he followed it up, almost on a run.

In the meantime Dick, Tom, and John Barrow had journeyed to the third outlet of the lake, the stream which the guide thought must be the original of Perch River.  Here, after a good deal of trouble, the party located what looked like the stump of a tree once struck by lightning.

“We’ve found it at last!” cried Dick.  “I feel it in my bones that we are on the right track!”

Again they measured off the distance with care, and now came to a large flat rock, behind which was another, unusually sharp.

“The flat rock!” muttered Tom, and his heart began to thump wildly.  “Dick, you’re right.  We are on the right track.  If the treasure isn’t here, it’s been taken away.”

They had brought along a pick and a crowbar, and now all set to work to clear away the snow, and then the dirt from around the pointed rock.  The ground was hard, and at first they made but slow progress.

“Perhaps we’ll have to build a fire, to thaw out the ground,” suggested John Barrow.

“Oh, that will take too long,” said Tom.  “I wonder if we can’t turn the rock over?”

With the crowbar and the pick wedged against the flat rock they pushed upon the pointed rock with all the force at their command.  Several times the tools slipped, but at last they held, and slowly the pointed rock went up, until with a thud it rolled over and several feet away.