At the other end of the shrubbery, where the rockery was, Gustus stooped and dragged out a big clinker--then another, and another. There was a hole like a big rabbit-hole. If Edward had really been a white rabbit it would just have fitted him. 'I'll go first,' said Gustus, and went, head-foremost. 'Come on,' he said, hollowly, from inside. And Edward, too, went. It was dreadful crawling into that damp hole in the dark. As his head got through the hole he saw that it led to a cave, and below him stood a dark figure. The lantern was on the ground. 'Come on,' said Gustus, 'I'll catch you if you fall.' With a rush and a scramble Edward got in. 'It's caves,' said Gustus. 'A chap I know that goes about the country bottoming cane-chairs, 'e told me about it. And I nosed about and found he lived here. So then I thought what a go. So now we'll put your half-shiner down and look at it, and we'll have a gold-mine, and you can pretend to find it.' 'Halves!' said Edward, briefly and firmly. 'You're a man,' said Gustus. 'Now, then!' He led the way through a maze of chalk caves till they came to a convenient spot, which he had marked. And now Edward emptied his pockets on the sand--he had brought all the contents of his money-box, and there was more silver than gold, and more copper than either, and more odd rubbish than there was anything else. You know what a boy's pockets are like. Stones and putty, and slate-pencils and marbles--I urge in excuse that Edward was a very little boy--a bit of plasticine, one or two bits of wood. 'No time to sort 'em,' said Gustus, and, putting the lantern in a suitable position, he got out the glass and began to look through it at the tumbled heap. And the heap began to grow. It grew out sideways till it touched the walls of the recess, and outwards till it touched the top of the recess, and then it slowly worked out into the big cave and came nearer and nearer to the boys. Everything grew--stones, putty, money, wood, plasticine. Edward patted the growing mass as though it were alive and he loved it, and Gustus said: 'Here's clothes, and beef, and bread, and tea, and coffee--and baccy--and a good school, and me a engineer. I see it all a-growing and a-growing.' 'Hi--stop!' said Edward suddenly. Gustus dropped the telescope. It rolled away into the darkness. 'Now you've done it,' said Edward. 'What?' said Gustus. 'My hand,' said Edward, 'it's fast between the rock and the gold and things. Find the glass and make it go smaller so that I can get my hand out.' But Gustus could not find the glass. And, what is more, no one ever has found it to this day. 'It's no good,' said Gustus, at last. 'I'll go and find your father. They must come and dig you out of this precious Tom Tiddler's ground.'