In one corner lay the clothes that the men had left, and which for a moment seemed all that the cavern contained, but on removing them Johnny saw that they were thrown over a rifle, a revolver, and the two chamois-leather bags that the men had brought there.  They were so heavy that the boy could scarcely lift them.  His face flushed; his hands trembled with excitement.  To a boy whose truant wanderings had given him a fair knowledge of mining, he knew that weight could have but one meaning!  Gold!  He hurriedly untied the nearest bag.  But it was not the gold of the locality, of the tunnel, of the “bed rock”!  It was “flake gold,” the gold of the river!  It had been taken from the miners’ sluices in the distant streams.  The bags before him were the spoils of the sluice robber,—­spoils that could not be sold or even shown in the district without danger, spoils kept until they could be taken to Marysville or Sacramento for disposal.  All this might have occurred to the mind of any boy of the locality who had heard the common gossip of his elders, but to Johnny’s fancy an idea was kindled peculiarly his own!  Here was a cavern like that of the “Forty Thieves” in the story book, and he was the “Ali Baba” who knew its secret!  He was not obliged to say “Open Sesame,” but he could say it if he liked, if he was showing it off to anybody!

Yet alas he also knew it was a secret he must keep to himself.  He had nobody to trust it to.  His father was a charcoal-burner of small means; a widower with two children, Johnny and his elder brother Sam.  The latter, a flagrant incorrigible of twenty-two, with a tendency to dissipation and low company, had lately abandoned his father’s roof, only to reappear at intervals of hilarious or maudlin intoxication.  He had always been held up to Johnny as a warning, or with the gloomy prognosis that he, Johnny, was already following in his tortuous footsteps.  Even if he were here he was not to be thought of as a confidant.  Still less could he trust his father, who would be sure to bungle the secret with sheriffs and constables, and end by bringing down the vengeance of the gang upon the family.  As for himself, he could not dispose of the gold if he were to take it.  The exhibition of a single flake of it to the adult public would arouse suspicion, and as it was Johnny’s hard fate to be always doubted, he might be connected with the gang.  As a truant he knew he had no moral standing, but he also had the superstition—­quite characteristic of childhood—­that being in possession of a secret he was a participant in its criminality—­and bound, as it were, by terrible oaths!  And then a new idea seized him.  He carefully put back everything as he had found it, extinguished the candle, left the cave, remounted the tree, and closed the opening again as he had seen the others do it, with the addition of murmuring “Shut Sesame” to himself, and then ran away as fast as his short legs could carry him.