Poor Charlie felt as if he could have hugged McKombo, but the sprite kept his distance and said quietly, “You haven’t such a thing as a spade and a pick among the things in the cart?”
“ ‘HURRAH!’ HE CRIED, TOSSING UP HIS HAT.”
Charlie had, though. Both the pick and the spade he had used many a time at the farm, and he produced them at once; but he looked doubtfully at McKombo as to what he was to do with them or how they could be the means of assisting his mother in her difficulties. It seemed very business-like, however, the way the sprite led Charlie to the hollow trunk of the great gum-tree, and [[120]]commanded him to dig within a certain circle he at once marked out. The goblin’s promises of certain and speedy benefit gave the boy faith and energy to dig and delve away with might and main until there gaped a large hole within the trunk, which revealed some of the thick roots beneath, also the top of a square tin box, such as lawyers keep their deeds in. The moment McKombo caught sight of the box he began to caper about the sward in antic glee.
“Hurrah!” he cried, tossing up his hat. “There it is, me boy, safe an’ sound, as on the night I saw them murthering scoundrels place it there twenty years ago.”
Poor Charlie stared at the fairy, and wiped the perspiration from his heated face, but he could not comprehend what his companion meant. Acting under McKombo’s directions, young Allan made a lever and got the box out of its bed. It did not appear large, but it was very heavy—so heavy that the boy could hardly lift it; the thick coating of paint on it had preserved it from rusting and decay, and it was fastened with an iron padlock. With one blow of his spade Charlie broke open the lid, when—lo! he saw a heap of dark yellow sovereigns and several parcels of bank-notes within. The sight made him faint and [[121]]giddy with surprise and delight, so that he could not utter a word.
“Look there, now. See that,” ejaculated the sprite, pointing to the treasure. “One evening, twenty years ago, three men brought that box here and hid it beneath the trunk of this old gum-tree; they went away, but never returned for it. In time a poor woodcutter built his hut beneath the great tree, and I watched him come and go to his daily toil, until he could toil no more and they carried him forth and buried him on the river-bank. Then came your Uncle George, my boy, who purchased the place for ten pounds; but had he known of the riches under his very nose, I’ll go bail he wouldn’t have gone away to dig for gold.”
“Why didn’t you tell Uncle George about this money?” asked Charlie.
“Bekase he would have spent it recklessly, honey, that’s why. Money ill-spent or misapplied is a great evil. Put the box on the cart wid the things, and return to your mother. Off wid ye, boy, at onst.”
“Won’t you come with me?” pleaded Charlie.