Mr. Millard could depart, now, if he wanted. Jack trusted to his chum,
prowling somewhere about, to have the good judgment to follow the
long-legged fellow away. As for Benson, he didn't mean to do another
thing until he had found the shovel, and had determined just what had
been so carefully buried on this dark night!

So Jack watched, rather indifferently, as Millard slunk off into the
darkness. After three minutes or so had passed, Jack rose and ran
straight for the thicket.

There it was--new ground, that had just been turned over with a shovel.
There was no mound, but the fresh earth showed just where to dig.

"Oh, this is as easy as making change for a blind man!" chuckled the
young submarine skipper, rubbing his hands ecstatically.

What about the shovel? Jack turned to feel around in the darkness.
Really, Millard couldn't be such a very clever fellow! Jack had no
difficulty in finding the shovel. Its handle was sticking out from
under a mass of dead brush.

Jack Benson drew out the implement, brandishing it.

"Hal had the good sense to shadow that chap away," decided the young
skipper. "Otherwise, he'd have been here by this time. Good
haul--rascal and records in the same night. For, if Hal goes on
Millard's trail, then Millard is pretty sure to be a prisoner before
the night is over. Oh, I wish Eph would turn up."