It was in such a position that Wyckoff
could not reach it. He made a despairing effort to grasp the rope and
then, as the sands about him were boiling and seething, he sank lower
and lower. At last with a shriek he disappeared and the boys saw him no
more.
Tom groaned. His effort to save the man who had done so much to bring
disaster upon himself and his chums was now beyond his reach. Although
Tom had been doing all that he possibly could to help Wyckoff, he still
felt keenly the humiliation of his defeat.
Jack, who stood near, laid a consoling hand upon Tom's shoulder. His
emotion was equal to that of his comrade. All were awed.
It was Carlos who brought them to attention again.
"Look there," he cried. "Look at that chest."
The boys stared in spellbound amazement at the curious sight.
Exactly in the center of the noose of rope lying now half buried in the
boiling sands rose the end of a box or chest. It plainly showed evidence
of age. A gasp of astonishment went around.
"Pull in on the line," urged Carlos. "There's your treasure."
Like one in a trance, Tom obediently pulled on the line. The noose
tightened about the chest. Tom dragged with all his might but was unable
to move the object. He glanced at the others. They seemed unable to
move, but gazed with staring eyes at the sight.
"Tail on here, my hearties," cried Tom. "Give us a hand."
Almost instantly the others awoke to the situation and now every hand
was grasping the line and all were pulling manfully.
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