Denton didn't say anything, but he jerked Schwartz up by
the collar so fiercely that the German gave it over and came
along.
We dropped down into the gully, stumbled over the boulder wash,
and began to toil in the ankle-deep sand of a little sage-brush
flat this side of the next ascent. Schwartz followed steadily
enough now, but had fallen forty or fifty feet behind. This was
a nuisance, as we bad to keep turning to see if he still kept up.
Suddenly he seemed to disappear.
Denton and I hurried back to find him on his hands and knees
behind a sagebrush, clawing away at the sand like mad.
"Can't be water on this flat," said Denton; "he must have gone
crazy."
"What's the matter, Schwartz?" I asked.
For answer he moved a little to one side, showing beneath his
knee one corner of a wooden box sticking above the sand.
At this we dropped beside him, and in five minutes had uncovered
the whole of the chest. It was not very large, and was locked.
A rock from the wash fixed that, however. We threw back the lid.
It was full to the brim of gold coins, thrown in loose, nigh two
bushels of them.
"The treasure!" I cried.
There it was, sure enough, or some of it.
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