I gazed at them fascinated. I felt like
falling on my knees in the sand and tearing their secret from them
with my bare hands. I was strong enough to dig them up by the
roots, strong enough to dig the Panama Canal! I glanced tremulously
at Edgar. His eyes were wide open and, eloquent with dismay, his
lower jaw had fallen. He turned and looked at me for the first time
with consideration. Apology and remorse were written in every line
of his countenance.
I'm sorry, he stammered. I had a cruel premonition. I exclaimed
with distress.
"You have lost the map!" I hissed.
"No, no," protested Edgar; "but I entirely forgot to bring any
lunch!"
With violent mutterings I tore off my upper and outer garments and
tossed them into the hack.
"Where do I begin?" I asked.
Edgar pointed to a spot inside the triangle formed by the three
trees and equally distant from each.
"Put that horse behind the bank," I commanded, "where no one can
see him! And both you and Rupert keep off the sky-line!" From the
north and south we were now all three hidden by the two high banks
of sand; to the east lay the beach and the Atlantic Ocean, and to
the west stretches of marshes that a mile away met a wood of pine
trees and the railroad round- house.
I began to dig. I knew that weary hours lay before me, and I
attacked the sand leisurely and with deliberation. It was at first
no great effort; but as the hole grew in depth, and the roots of
the trees were exposed, the work was sufficient for several men.
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