"He's filling in, now, beyond a doubt," thought Captain Jack. "He is
burying--what? The maps and records? Hiding them here that he may
dig them up at some later date?"
Benson chuckled noiselessly.
"If that's Millard's game I reckon some one else will do some digging
over yonder before he pays this place a second visit!"
Ah, the noise had stopped, at last. Now, Millard came out of the
thicket.
"He hasn't that bundle he brought up here!" throbbed Jack Benson. "And
he isn't bringing a shovel out, either, so it must be hidden right handy.
Great!"
Mr. Millard could depart, now, if he wanted. Jack trusted to his chum,
prowling somewhere about, to have the good judgment to follow the
long-legged fellow away. As for Benson, he didn't mean to do another
thing until he had found the shovel, and had determined just what had
been so carefully buried on this dark night!
So Jack watched, rather indifferently, as Millard slunk off into the
darkness. After three minutes or so had passed, Jack rose and ran
straight for the thicket.
There it was--new ground, that had just been turned over with a shovel.
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