Come back when they've passed.' Dick heard Rogers throw the calfskin bag into the hollow of the tree and scrape the loose rubbish over it, and then both glided away in the shadow of the Red Hand tips.

From beyond the tips came the beat of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of human voices.

Dick's first thought was of his pursuers, the troopers; his second of his escape; his third sent the blood surging through his veins and his heart beating like a piston.

A grand thought, a magnificent thought! He could have cried out with exultation as it swept into his mind.

Creeping around the tree he silently unearthed the gold-stealers' bag and dragged it after him, retreating to the quarry.