sure himself and the others that they must be on the track of the
hidden wealth.

"It is," admitted Mr. Baxter, "but there are so many chances for error,
that we can never be sure. There are probably more caves and waterfalls
than this in Alaska, and Stults was not an expert map-maker. He may have
thought he was setting down very explicit directions, when, as a matter
of fact, he may be miles and miles off. But we can tell better in the
morning."

None of the gold-seekers rested well. Though they were more sheltered
than at any time since beginning their journey,--for the cave made a
fine place to camp in,--their sleep was disturbed by a haunting vision
of disappointment. Suppose there should be no gold after all?

They resumed the digging soon after breakfast. By noon they had covered
nearly the entire floor of the cavern. Fred was using his pick in one
corner of the cave. Of the third assigned to him, not more than a square
yard remained. The others had about the same still to explore, and, up
to now, there had not been the slightest indication of the buried
wealth. Fred's heart began to fail him.

He raised his pick high over his head, and brought it down with great
force in the frozen dirt. Somehow it seemed to penetrate easier than it
had before. It stuck in nearly up to the handle. The sharp point had
entered something soft.

The boy's heart gave a convulsive throb. He pried up on the pick handle.
Something was giving way. Had he discovered the hole in which the gold
was hidden?

An instant later, as the light from one of the lanterns gleamed on the
spot where he was digging, Fred uttered a joyful cry.

"What is it?" shouted Mr. Baxter, as he and Jerry threw down their picks
and hastened to the lad's side.

The boy was down on his knees, scooping at something with his hands. The
others looked.

Then they saw what they had come so far to seek. Fred's pick had pierced
through a canvas bag, buried a short distance below the frozen surface.
It was a bag of gold nuggets, and they lay scattered about in the dirt.

"The treasure!" cried Fred. "Here it is! I have found it!"

And so he had. Almost on the verge of failure he had unearthed the gold
buried so long before by the old German, Max Stults!

CHAPTER XVII

THE SPYING INDIAN

The adventurers could hardly believe their good luck. Fred, still on his
knees, scooped out handful after handful of the dull yellow nuggets,
which meant so much to him