emselves. They were of all sizes from a beechnut to a pecan. Even
roughly cut and polished as they were, they still flashed back their
rainbow hues with pointed brilliancy. He picked out a large yellow
diamond which even in this dim light glowed like molten gold in a fog;
another which imprisoned the purple of the night sky; and another
tinged with the faint crimson of an afterglow. Jumbled together in his
hand, they were a scintillating pile of tiny, living stars, their rays
fencing in a dazzling play of light. Even to Stubbs, who knew nothing
of the stones, they were so fascinating that he turned them over and
over with his finger to watch their twinkling iridescence.

Just those he held there now were such as a lapidary would spend his
life willingly in the getting. If not another stone were found in the
cave, these alone represented a fortune worthy of the expedition. Each
stone as it stood was worth probably from three to eight hundred
dollars, and some of the larger would run into the thousands. It was
difficult to realize their full value here where they counted for so
little,--no more than the rays of the stars themselves,--here where so
many others lay in a heap like broken glass. Vaguely Stubbs grasped
the fact that he had in his possession the worth of many good ships
and freedom for the rest of his life. Yet he thrilled less with this
thought than he did with the sheer joy of discovery. A man will
cherish a dime he picks up on the street more than he does a
five-dollar bill in his pocket. It was this spirit of treasure-trove
that got into his blood, sending a tingle of new life through his
veins. He tried to rouse Wilson to it.

"Come here, man," he shouted. "Come here and see what we've got. God!
there's millions in this cave!"

But Wilson lifted his head indifferently.

"I don't give a damn," he answered.

"You haven't seen 'em sparkle--you haven't gut it inter yer head!
Ye're rich--richer than Danbury!"

He hurried back to where Wilson sat and thrust the jewels before his
eyes.

"D' ye see 'em?" he cried excitedly. "Bigger 'n yer thumb?"

For a second his old-time suspicion and doubt returned.

"But maybe," he added sorrowfully, "maybe they're jus' glass. Jus' my
luck."

Nevertheless he believed sufficiently in them to return to the quest.
He struck match after match, wandering farther and farther into the
darkness, hoping to find something with which he could make light
enough to see around