“Suits me fine,” Bob agreed. “It looks lower than this.”

Without further ado they started toward the rocky ledge which rose toward the back, then, facing about prepared to make their way across the ravine through the woods. Being first class pilots they made a careful reckoning, noted several easily followed marks by which to set a course, then with a final glance around at the scene made ready to start, but before they took a step they heard a scrambling and a moment later were surprised to see Mills, laden with the heavy box, come stumbling toward them. If the man knew they were there, he made no sign, but came half stumbling along bent almost double with the weight he carried.

The boys paused uncertainly, both ready to defend themselves should the insane man attack them, but he might have been blind for all the attention he paid to them. As he drew nearer they could see his lips moving, and soon they could hear his mutterings, which were punctuated by queer crackling chuckles as if his throat was parched and dry.

“I’m awake, awake,” he declared over and over. “Awake, and I have it all, every piece, millions of treasure.” At that he laughed harshly, then his foot struck against a bit of projecting rock and it took all his strength to keep from falling, but he managed it, although in the balancing maneuver, the box tipped and teetered precariously. Mills jerked it tight and then a mass of the shining contents was spilled and went tumbling to the ground. “Riches, riches, and I am awake. Let it stay, let it stay—I have it all. I have it all, the others have none—I am awake and rich—rich—” The words trailed off into incoherent sounds. He made his way weakly past the boys, pieces of the treasure falling like a trail over the route, and five minutes later he disappeared in a thick grove which fringed the cliff.

“Gosh,” Bob said softly when at last Mills was out of sight, “he has the treasure.”

“Whew, surely.” Jim stooped and picked up a handful of the fallen trinkets and as he let them fall again through his fingers, the Buddies’ eyes met. Mechanically they turned their faces toward the trees which concealed their former companion.

“A box full of shells—” said Bob. “Worth four bits a ton,” Jim added. “Whew, speaking of nightmares, if the sandman can beat all this adventure he’s going some. Seven dead men, a crazy man, besides a band of Indians and dressed-up robbers carried away before a broken dam—whew—”

“Let’s get 

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