Henry shifted his position, and, leaning upon his cane from another angle, went on: "'Twas dis away. Once uponer time me an' John Gomus an' John Flowers, we was round at Mr. Holmes' stables, right back of Mr. Kidder's whey I uster keep my horse and kyart; dere was woods right dare den, sah, an' a graveyard; an' I had a horse and kyart of my own. So one evenin' an ole white 'oman come fum de Sound, an' she tole us that a sperit had done tole her whey some money was buried; an' she wanted us to come down dere and dig it up; she couldn't dig for it, but she knowed whey 'twas—de sperit had tole her. So we got togedder and made a club to go down—three of us. De place was on Wrightsville Sound, not fur from Mr. Wright's place.
"De sign was, dat one read de Bible back'ards, and no one speak—all hadter go by signs, an' dat'd keep de sperits fum pesterin' us. John Gomus, he had de rod goin' roun', an' fonn' a place to stick it. I dunno why he stick it whey he did. De rod pinted right down dere; and right whey de rod pinted we digged. When we commence diggin', it was about half-past eight o'clock, and we worked hard, sah. We digged a hole big enough to set a small house in. John, he kep' bearin' on de rod, an' de rod it kep' goin' down. Den de rod at las' struck sumpn; and we was so glad, thinkin' we'd struck de pot! Every one was rejoiced! We didn' talk, but jes fling up de dirt! An' when we dig down dere, sah, what you spose 'twas. Nothin' but a big ole cow's horn. An' after all dat diggin'! We done an' digged a hole 'bout fifteen or twenty feet across, and goodness knows how deep; an' 'twas 'bout four in de mornin' before we quit. We pack up an' come back home, feelin' jes as cheap as a wet chicken.
"De ole 'oman come 'roun agin, an' tole us dat de money was dere; fer de sperit had tole her agin 'twas dere. But we warn't anxious to try for it agin. We thought we done enough."
Old Henry chuckled, and limped away; and we both laughed heartily at his droll yarn. Jamesby enjoyed the tale particularly; and, although I felt that it might somehow be at my expense, I was duly amused.
When Jamesby descended from his hilarious heights, he turned to me rather gravely, and said, "Now, I want it from your own lips; did you really dig for money on Money Island?"
I answered, "I did."
"And," he continued, "was that a true story you told about it?"
"Now, Jamesby," I replied, "I really cannot endure this doubt cast upon the truthfulness of my story. I decline to discuss the matter. You have read the paper, and you know me as the author of the story."
"But," he added in rather a comical tone, "there are some things which (with all due respect for your trustworthiness) call for a more positive confirmation."
I knew I would not have written anything on so important a subject without proper consideration; and he knew it too. However, I realized the fact that an effort to believe such a story as I had offered to the public may have made a somewhat weighty demand upon credulity, at least with some people. To answer his last suggestion, I merely drew out of my pocket a copy of the "Savannah Morning News", containing an account of a stranger's mysterious movements about Warsaw Island near Savannah, and his sudden disappearance, leaving good evidence that he had carried with him a hidden treasure found there, and which tradition had stated lay upon the Island. I also reminded him of the fact that Dutch Island near Savannah is full of what are known as "treasure holes", which have been made by persons seeking the buried booty of the pirates of the olden times. He knew all about these; and he had also heard that some of the enterprising explorers into the mysteries of that island had been successful.