By midafternoon there were a dozen miniature foxholes on the mesa top.
The girls were beginning to tire.
“Maybe we’d better rest for a time,” Bud suggested.
“But we may never come here again,” said Sandy. She tossed a scoopful of earth over her shoulder and continued to dig. “Think of all that treasure!” she said.
Bud grinned, shaking his head helplessly. “Carry on, girls. I’ll just supervise for a while.”
MAROONED ON THE MESA 145
He sat on a flat rock and watched with mounting skepticism as the girls plowed up the surface of Purple Mesa. Suddenly a shriek of joy sent him leaping to his feet. Fifty yards away, Phyl was jumping up and down, shouting, “We found the treasure! We found it!”
Bud dashed over to where Sandy was holding an object aloft. After she had scraped the caked earth from it, Bud whistled in amazement. It was an ancient turquoise-and-silver ring!
“I can’t believe it!” he said in astonishment. “Let me have one of those tools!”
In no time he too had forgotten that the trio were cut off from civilization. For hours the three clawed at the earth, digging one hole after another. The sky turned scarlet, then magenta. Finally the weary searchers were forced to give up as dusk came on. The treasure hunt was at an end with only one ring to reward their efforts.
Now Purple Mesa took on a rather eerie aspect as lengthening shadows of lavender and violet crept across its surface. Deeper purple hues cast an unreal pallor on their faces. The cold of the desert night began to make itself felt.
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