"I should take out my knife, open it, and slit the skin right up, if it was my job," said Griggs indifferently.

"No, no; it would be a pity," cried Bourne.

"I could do it," cried Chris--"if I might."

"Try, then," said Wilton, who hastily threw the long skin down, his hands being wet with excitement, which showed in a deck upon his forehead.

Chris eagerly s.n.a.t.c.hed up the belt from where it lay, and then dropped it, startled by the warning uttered loudly by Griggs.

"Take care!" he cried. "That's a rattler's skin, with the head complete. P'r'aps there's both poison-fangs in the skull still."

"Ugh!" cried Chris.

"There, pick it up again, young un," cried Griggs, laughing. "There's nothing there but skin. The poison-fangs went along with the flesh and bones."

"Of course," said Chris shortly. "How stupid! Here, catch hold of the tail, Ned."

The next moment the round belt was stretched out between them, and Chris's hand as he pa.s.sed it along the middle felt within it so many hard round pieces of something about as large as marbles. While confining his attention to the one nearest the head, he worked it along to the mouth, and let it fall with a sharp rap upon the table, to lie shining dully in the light shed by the hanging spirit-lamp.

"Quartz with gold in it, and no mistake," cried Griggs eagerly.

"Gold, with some specks of quartz in it," cried the doctor, raising the heavy roughly-rounded and hammered fragment nearer the lamp.

"Yes, three-quarters gold," said Wilton, while after taking it in his fingers and handling it for a few minutes, Bourne laid it down with a sigh.

"Let's have some more, Squire Christopher," cried Griggs; but the words were hardly out of his lips before there was again a sharp rap on the table, and then another and another, the boy continuing till a dozen of the dull frosted-looking specimens lay upon the boards, shining with a soft dull glow.

"Excessively rich ore," said the doctor, breaking the silence, after the party had been busily turning over the pieces.

"And no doubt about it, doctor," cried Griggs. "Well, that's yours, anyhow."

"No," said the doctor quickly. "You brought the poor fellow here."

"Right, but you doctored him and made him able to speak. 'Sides, he gave it to you, and it's yours. What's more, he gave you the hills where the tons of it lie--somewhere."

"Yes, somewhere," said the doctor; "but where is that?"

"Where the poor old chap came from. He ought to have given you the map with all its bearings marked down. Are you sure that he hadn't got it in his pocket?"

"Certain," replied the doctor, "for he had no pockets."

"Well, sewed up then in his jacket?"

"I carefully examined that so as to get some information about him."

"Of course," said Griggs. "Nothing more inside the sarpent, is there, Squire Chris?"

"No," replied the boy, after running his hand along the soft skin until it touched Ned's. "It's all stuffed full of something of this last part to keep the gold from getting any further."

"Yes, that's it," said Ned; "so as to keep the gold in the middle, and leave the ends soft to tie together."

"It doesn't quite feel like that," said Chris thoughtfully. "If that had been meant, why wasn't there a sort of soft roll of something at the head end? I say, father, there is something like a roll."

"Draw it out then, my boy," was the reply.

"It won't come," said Chris. "We shall have to slit the skin here."

"Nay, skin it out as if it were a bit of the rattler's body left in.

Pull the mouth open over the neck. No, no; not like that. Draw it open a bit. That's the way. Now you'll do it, my lad."

Chris jumped at the American's hints, and acting upon them, found that the task was comparatively easy, and in a few minutes a little roll of soft cream-coloured leather, about an inch in diameter and eight or nine long, carefully wound round with what looked like fine twine, but proved to be a remarkably fine kind of animal integument, lay upon the table.

"Leather of some kind--I mean, soft skin," said Griggs, bending over the little roll as it lay before them. "Say, doctor, I'm beginning to think you've got the bearings after all. You must use your knife this time."

"Yes," said the doctor, taking out a many-bladed knife, and then pausing to pa.s.s the object round before going farther.

But the roll was returned to him quickly in the impatience felt by all to see whether it should prove to be a scroll containing valuable information, and the doctor inserted the point of his knife beneath the thin twine-like bond. There was a sharp sound as it was divided, and upon being unwound there before the party lay the edge of a roll of very thin, carefully smoothed, yellowish skin, looking like badly-prepared vellum, only feeling far more soft.

"A map, or writing," said Wilton hoa.r.s.ely.

"A map, I'm sure," said Bourne.

"That's about it, sir," cried Griggs. "Say, neighbour, you've made a find, and the old man wasn't so mad as he looked."

"So it seems," said the doctor, rather breathless in spite of his calm self-contained nature, accustomed to crises.

"Are we on the brink of a great discovery?" said Wilton. "If so, how does the matter stand?"

"It's the doctor's find," cried Griggs, and the two boys began to breathe audibly as they rested their chins in their hands and seemed to devour the little leather scroll.

"No; you brought the poor fellow here."

"Tchah! What's the good of fighting about what we haven't got?" said Griggs, laughing. "What do you say to whacks?"

"What!" cried Bourne.

"Share and share alike all round, when there's anything to share."

"To be sure," said Wilton.

"And I say that the youngsters come into the swim; only look here, young squires, if there's nothing you get nought."

"Agreed," cried the boys, in a breath.

"Agreed all," cried Griggs merrily. "Now then, doctor, open the roll and let's see; but before you begin, who'll buy my share for ten cents?--What, all silent? No buyers? Tchah! There's speculation! I won't sell it now. Read away, doctor, and let's hear--or see."

CHAPTER SIX.