It was impossible to sleep while the storm raged with such violence, and Jack continued his good work by lecturing his comrades. He showed them the point toward which they were drifting, and that ruin must follow unless they rallied against the spell that seemed falling upon them. "Why, in less than a month--if this sort o' thing keeps on--we'll be ready to cut each other's throats. It is _horrible_! I'd rather turn my back on the gold altogether and live poor all my life than to pass another week as this one has been." "I agree with you, Jack," warmly replied Duplin. "There is gold enough for us all. Let's clasp hands, and forget the hard work. Hereafter let's be _men_--not savage dogs." "Amen!" Through that livelong night the three, comrades once more, conversed earnestly. And when day came, they were ready for work. It was plain now that their secret was no longer _their_ secret--that they had been watched by some one who knew of their rich discovery. And it was likely that this watcher also knew of their "bank"--the spot where their treasure was stowed away. Before daylight they removed the gold to another spot, the driving rain obliterating all traces as soon as made. This done, they looked to their weapons. The spy, whoever he might be, must be found, though a week was spent in searching for him. Only for the beating rain, this would have been a comparatively easy matter, since the ground, clear to the hills, was very favorable for trailing. Day broke clear and beautiful, and Duplin experienced a peculiar thrill of joyous thankfulness as he beheld the brilliant sun roll above the eastern swells. The sight gave him renewed life, and the last lingering trace of superstition vanished. For hours the three friends sought in vain for some trace of their nocturnal visitor, but it was not until they crossed the first ridge that such rewarded their search. Then, deeply imprinted in the moist sandy loam, they came upon a double trail, though both sets of tracks were evidently made by the same person, probably in going and coming, as they trod different ways. "It's our man," cried Jack, as he arose from comparing his tally with the tracker. "We must run him to ground, now. He can't be far--these tracks are fresh." "But which are the latest?" "That puzzles me. I'm not much on the trail-hunt. Chicot could tell, no doubt, but I can't. We must follow both. You and Wythe take that direction, and I'll look to this." "But there may be danger to you going alone. We don't know who or what this fellow is. Best keep together." "And so lose the game, like as not? No. I think I can hold my own, since there's only one man. Go on--and if _you_ find the game, build a fire of grass that will send up a black smoke. I'll do the same. Look out for it."