The morning wore on with Harvey sleeping. Bye and bye Peggy and Larkin came back to announce the meal. Larkin had made a discovery.
"We went in through that bother hopening," he said. "The one to the left of where I crunched the skulls. And it's hopen to the sky. You could git up to the top of the butte, I fancy, far as I could tell wiv one torch. Better recharge 'em both, 'adn't we?"
Harvey still slumbered and the four of them picnicked on the ledge. Then Lola and Stone in turn explored the hollows of the butte and he showed her the gleaming wall, while the other pair watched on the ledge for the posse and developments.
"Only half of this belongs to us," he said. "The other half belongs to Lyman's daughter, Margaret."
"How's that?" she asked, breathlessly.
Stone explained to her, wondering at her excitement.
"But that's Peggy," she said.
"Peggy? Peggy Furniss?"
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful? Peggy is a usual nickname for Margaret, you know. She told me her story a long while ago. You see, Castro never happened to mention the name of the partner of the two men he grubstaked. Too cautious, I suppose. Peggy doesn't know, either, if Larkin hasn't happened to mention it. And she wouldn't talk about it with him even then, because—you don't suppose it will make any difference between her and Larkin do you—her mother having run away like that?"
