gs stood, would have been the height of
folly. In that case they would have been ready at hand for Moreas to
take possession of them, should he be lucky enough to put a bullet into
Max before the latter could defend himself. No! he must find a new
hiding-place for them. He looked the hillside up and down without
discovering what he wanted. Then half way to the summit, and a quarter
of a mile on his right, he saw a conspicuous rock, the shape of which
reminded him irresistibly of a church steeple. For some distance to the
eastward the hill was entirely bare. He accordingly hurried thither, and
having measured the distance carefully, foot by foot, dug a large hole,
seventy-one feet due east from the rock just mentioned. In this hole he
placed the bag containing the precious stones, and afterwards returned
the soil to its former position, covering it with a small rock, in order
that the fact that he had been digging should not be apparent to the
casual observer, should one ever chance to pass that way. Then, to make
sure that there was no error in his calculations, he carefully stepped
the distance once more. As before, it was seventy-one feet exactly. To
further impress this fact upon his memory, he took his hunting-knife,
bared his breast, and drew, regardless of the pain, a rough picture of
the spire rock, and below it the number "seventy-one," with a large E to
indicate the east. The blood gushed out before he had finished, the pain
was excruciating, but he showed no sign of flinching. When he had done
this he picked up his rifle once more and set off for camp.

On his arrival there he found Moreas seated on a log beside the fire. He
looked up as Max came near, and seeing that he was carrying his rifle,
asked what sort of luck he had had. The other noticed that there was the
same shifty look upon his face that always heralded the approach of
mischief. However, since he was prepared for all eventualities, he did
not mind so very much. It was when Moreas was genially disposed that he
feared him.

"I did not see anything to shoot," Max replied, as he approached the
fire. "What luck have you had?"

"Only two small stones," answered the other; "One runs, perhaps, to a
carat, and the other to about a half. To tell the truth, I'm getting
tired of it. Our luck is but half so good as it was."

"Surely you are not dissatisfied," said Max, seeing that the moment had
come for him to bring his accusation. "You should be the last