‘It’s right,’ he cried, ’right as the bank.  She’s a dyke formation, I should say, an’ rich.  By the holy, we’re made men—­made men, Hardy!

Detective Downy was too deeply interested in his own quest to pay much attention to the miners.

‘Now, my lad,’ he said, ‘where are we?’

‘The bag’s there under them lumps.’  Dick held his candle low, throwing its light into the shaft.  Downy dropped from the slabs placed across from drive to drive into the bottom, and going on his knees threw aside the lumps of mullock indicated by the boy.  Dick followed him holding the candle, and watching his movements, anxiously at first, and then with terror.  He flung himself down beside the detective, and plunged his hand amongst the rubble, then ceased and faced the detective, mute, despairing.

‘Well, well,’ cried Downy in alarm, ’what is it?

‘Gone!’ whispered Dick.

‘Gone?  Are you sure?  We have not searched yet.’

‘It’s gone!’

‘You may have made a mistake.  Hardy, Mc Knight, lend a hand here.’

‘No good,’ said Dick, ’it’s gone.—­it’s stolen.  I put it right here, coverin’ it with this flat junk an’ a lot o’ small stuff.  I know—­I know quite well.’

Harry and McKnight went into the shaft with shovels, and turned over the dirt stowed there to the depth of two feet, but the bag was gone.

‘Show a light here,’ Downy said suddenly, looking up at Dick from the slab on which he was seated above the two workers.  He took the candle and examined the edge of the slab closely.

‘You said the bag containing the stolen gold was made of hide.’

‘Yes,’ said the boy, ‘green hide—­just a calfskin bag, with the hair on.’

‘Humph!  Then here is proof that part of your story is true anyhow.’  He held up a little tuft of reddish hair.

‘Rogers had a skin bag, a red-an’-white one.  Used to use it fer haulin’ in the shallow alluvial at Eel Creek.  I’ve seen it at his hut often,’ said McKnight.  ‘But, I say, mister, if you’ take the advice of an old miner you’ll get out o’ this just as quick as you can lick.  See, the timber’s been taken out o’ this shaft, an’ it’s a wonder to me it ain’t come down in a lump an’ buried them kids long since.  It’s damn dangerous, I tell you.’

‘Very good,’ said Downy.  ’First have a look into these drives and then we’ll clear.  Show me how you got through into the Red Hand workings, Dick.’

Dick led him along the drive and pointed out the little heap covering the opening where he had broken through.

’Do you think that dirt’s been touched by anyone since you piled it there?’ asked Downy.

‘No,’ said Dick, ‘it seems jist the same.’

‘Then the thief did not come that way.’  The detective scattered the heap and examined the rough edges of the opening carefully.  ’No cow hair there,’ he said.  ’We must hunt for that skin bag somewhere up aloft, Dick.’