had journeyed to the third outlet of the lake, the stream which the guide thought must be the original of Perch River. Here, after a good deal of trouble, the party located what looked like the stump of a tree once struck by lightning.
"We've found it at last!" cried Dick. "I feel it in my bones that we are on the right track!"
Again they measured off the distance with care, and now came to a large flat rock, behind which was another, unusually sharp.
"The flat rock!" muttered Tom, and his heart began to thump wildly. "Dick, you're right. We are on the right track. If the treasure isn't here, it's been taken away."
They had brought along a pick and a crowbar, and now all set to work to clear away the snow, and then the dirt from around the pointed rock. The ground was hard, and at first they made but slow progress.
"Perhaps we'll have to build a fire, to thaw out the ground," suggested John Barrow.
"Oh, that will take too long," said Tom. "I wonder if we can't turn the rock over?"
With the crowbar and the pick wedged against the flat rock they pushed upon the pointed rock with all the force at their command. Several times the tools slipped, but at last they held, and
