"Oh, Danny," she suddenly exclaimed, "couldn't there be something terrible hiding in that crack?" But before Dan could assure her that it was not likely, Gerald had leaped back into the rock basin, crying: "It's a cave in there! Oh, boy! Shall I go in it, Dan; shall I?" "Not alone!" The older boy was almost sorry that the crevice had been found. "Bob," he said, turning to the lad who stood meditatively looking at the waterfall, "I don't believe that it would be wise to permit Gerald to go into that cave. He might suddenly drop into a pit filled with water. Let's give it up, shall we, and go back to the girls?" It was plain to see that Bob was disappointed, but his reply was: "Of course, Gerald ought not to go into that cave, if it is one. I had no intention of permitting him to do more than see if it really is an opening. I also have a bathing suit and a flashlight. I never will be satisfied unless I investigate, but of course I will not take a step inside unless it is solid rock." Against his better judgment, Dan said, "Well, go ahead, Bob, if you want to." The girls had evidently sauntered away from the cabin, for Bob did not see them when he went there to don his bathing suit. He rejoined the others in a very short time. Having been an athlete in college, he swung himself down and back of the waterfall without aid. Then flashing the light into the crevice, he sang out: "There's a solid floor, all right, Dan, but I think Gerald had better not come." For a long five minutes the group on the outside waited, listening with ever-increasing anxiety. Dan thought that he would be sincerely glad when this foolhardy adventure was over. At last he called: "Bob, haven't you investigated enough? Come on out!" But there was no reply. Another five minutes elapsed and Dan was just about to have Gerald again climb back of the waterfall to look through the crevice, when Bob appeared, carrying a pickaxe and a shovel, rusted and dirt encrusted. "What do you say to that?" he exulted, as he plunged through the fall and waded out of the red rock pool. Dan was amazed. "Bob," he exclaimed, "you were right about one thing at least. The cave was made with a pick. Was it large?" "No; that is, not wide. It is a narrow tunnel which stops abruptly. I found these tools at the very end." Dan lifted his shovel and looked at the handle. Then he examined it more closely. Picking up a stone, he knocked away the dirt with which it was crusted. A name was carved in the handle. Letter by letter was deciphered and Dan wrote each in his small notebook. When they had reached the last, Bob asked: "Is it a message telling where the box is?" "No," Dan replied, "merely the name and address of the owner of the shovel and pick, I judge. A French name, Giguette. Yes, that is it, Franc Giguette." "But there is more to it, Danny." Gerald was trying to see the pad. "What's the rest?" "Where the miner lived, I suppose," Dan told him. "Cabin 10, I think it is."