n the top of the mound, with the slab between his
feet, and stooping down, he took hold of the handle with both hands. He
was a powerful man, but he could not lift the stone. His first effort,
however, loosened it, and then he began to move it from side to side,
still pulling upward, until at last he could feel it rising. Then, with
a great heave, he lifted it entirely out of the square aperture in which
it had been fitted, and set it on one side.

In an instant, Ralph, lantern in hand, was gazing down into the
opening. "Hello!" he cried, "there is something on fire in there. Oh,
no," he added quickly, correcting himself, "it's only the reflection
from our light."

CHAPTER XII

A TRADITION AND A WAISTCOAT

Captain Horn, his face red with exertion and excitement, stood gazing
down into the square aperture at his feet. On the other edge of the
opening knelt Ralph, holding the lantern so that it would throw its light
into the hole. In a moment, before the boy had time to form a question,
he was pushed gently to one side, and his sister Edna, who had clambered
up the side of the mound, knelt beside him. She peered down into the
depths beneath, and then she drew back and looked up at the captain. His
whole soul was in his downward gaze, and he did not even see her.

Then there came a voice from below. "What is it?" cried Mrs. Cliff. "What
are you all looking at! Do tell me."

With half-shut eyes, Edna let herself down the side of the mound, and
when her feet touched the ground, she made a few tottering steps toward
Mrs. Cliff, and placing her two hands on her companion's shoulders, she
whispered, "I thought it was. It is gold! It is the gold of the Incas."
And then she sank senseless at the feet of the older woman.

Mrs. Cliff did not know that Miss Markham had fainted. She simply stood
still and exclaimed, "Gold! What does it mean?"

"What is it all about?" exclaimed Ralph. "It looks like petrified honey.
This never could have been a beehive."

Without answering, Captain Horn knelt at the edge of the aperture, and
taking the lantern from the boy, he let it down as far as it would go,
which was only a foot or two.

"Ralph," he said hoarsely, as he drew himself back, "hold this lantern
and get down out of my way. I must cover this up, quick." And seizing the
stone slab by the handle, he lifted it as if it had been a pot-lid, and
let it down into its place. "Now," said he, "get down, and let us all go
away