They were sugar-frosted flakes, and after eating nothing but onions for more than a week, he had trouble adjusting to the flavor.
He washed them down with a swig of water. Zero took over the digging.
Stanley sifted his fingers through the fresh piles of dirt, in case he had missed anything.
He wished he had a flashlight. A diamond no bigger than a pebble would be worth thousands of dollars.
Yet there was no way he'd see it. They finished the water that Zero had gotten from the spigot by the showers.
Stanley said he'd go fill the jars again, but Zero insisted that he do it instead.
“No offense, but you make too much noise when you walk. You're too big.”
Stanley returned to the hole. As the hole grew wider, parts of the surface kept caving in.
They were running out of room. To make it much wider, they would first have to move some of the surrounding dirt piles out of the way.
He wondered how much time they had before the camp woke up. “How's it going?” Zero asked when he returned with the water.
Stanley shrugged one shoulder. He brought the shovel down the side of the hole, shaving off a slice of the dirt wall.
As he did so, he felt the shovel bounce off something hard. “What was that?” Zero asked.
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