CHAPTER XXVIII—A MYSTERIOUS PAPER
Brent handed me the paper and Pee-wee nearly pushed me off the seat sticking his head way over and trying to read it. I have to admit it was mighty interesting what was on that paper. The more Pee-wee stared at it the bigger his eyes got, and it had me guessing, too.
All the while, Brent just sat there driving the machine as if he wasn’t interested in the paper at all. He said, “You seem to like it. I pick up papers like that every day. If you don’t care for that one, just say so and I’ll dig you up another; I’ll find you German spy maps, lost patent papers of wonderful inventions, mortgage papers stolen by villyans, anything you say; just say the word.”
“If you don’t care for this one, don’t be afraid to say so. I know where there are some documents about a dark anarchist plot. Do you care about anarchist plots? Some people like them and others don’t; it’s just a matter of taste.“
I said, “Good night, this will do for me.”
Pee-wee said, all excited, “Maybe it means millions of dollars; maybe it means bars of gold. We’ll solve the mystery, hey?”
“Oh, just as you say,” Brent said; “you know my stand on mysteries and adventures; I eat them raw.”
That paper was all old and yellow and when we opened it I had to hold it on my knee, because it tore where the creases were. I guess maybe it was as old as ten years. It looked as if it had been torn out of a memorandum book and the writing was made with a lead pencil and it was kind of blurred, but anyway, this is what it said:
Snake Creek. North shore from Ohio R. to Skeleton Cove, Top of S Cove. Follow line due north from willow. Cons to west. Stake. Measure ninety-two feet along north line, then follow line due NW through T.W. Stake. Treasure at HW limit, indicated at AN Stake. Follow S line south to pie.
Pee-wee said, very mysterious like, “What da you think it is? It tells where there’s buried treasure, doesn’t it?”
“Sure it does,” I said. “It sounds just like the directions in the Gold Bug by Edgar Allan Poe.”
“It sounds just like Treasure Island,” Pee-wee put in.
Brent said, “Well, I don’t know. I was thinking about it and I decided that it’s a bill of fare.”
“A what?” Pee-wee shouted.
“You see it’s got stake and pie on it,” Brent said.
“You make me tired!” the kid fairly yelled. “That paper shows where buried treasure is hidden.”
Brent said, “Well then, that scarecrow must have been a pirate in his younger days. He had an evil past and I’m glad I killed him.”
“You seem to think it’s a joke,” I said; “but it tells where there’s buried treasure, that’s one sure thing. You can’t make anything else out of it—can you?”
Brent said, “Buried treasure’s good enough for me—gold or stakes or pies, I don’t care. I’d like to dig up a few buckwheat cakes just now.”
“Do you know what you are? Do you know what you are?” the kid began shouting. “You’re a Philippine—that’s what you are!”
I said, “You mean a philistine—that’s a person that makes fun of things and doesn’t believe anything.”
Brent said, “The only time I ever went after buried treasure I was foiled by the boy scouts. Never again. They wouldn’t chop down a tree under which the treasure was buried because they loved trees.”
“This isn’t under a tree,” Pee-wee said; “it’s in a cove—on the end of a line due north. That’s different. That’s always the kind of a place wkere treasure is—in a cove. You can tell by the names that there’s treasure there—Snake Creek and Skeleton Cove and lines due north and willows and everything. It says treasure, doesn’t it? What more do you want?”
“Only where’s the place?” Brent said.
“We’ll find it,” Pee-wee said; “we’ll find it if we, if we—drop in our tracks.”
Brent said, “That’s something I’ve always longed to do—drop in my tracks. I’d like to be rescued by a St. Bernard dog.”
I said, “Good night, have a heart. There are dogs enough in this series of thrilling adventures.”
Brent said, “Well anyway, this is the only story of adventure that has a scarecrow for a villain. What d’ye say?”