Pa was quiet, like he was thinkin'. But I could see Mitch was mad, not that he expected any of the money, but because he wanted me to have it and thought I deserved it.
We drove past the Old Salem mill comin' home. We'd fished there lots of times, Mitch and I—not this summer yet, but other summers. We used to sit on the dam and fish. And pa hadn't hardly said a word till we came to the mill. Then he said, "If you boys are lookin' for treasure, why don't you come here?" He knew we'd been diggin' in Montgomery's woods, but didn't say nothin'. Then Mitch says, "Where would you dig—along the shore or where? Or is there a cave around here?" Pa said "whoa" and stopped the horses. He said, "Look up there. Don't that look like Cardiff's hill in 'Tom Sawyer'?" "Well, it does," said Mitch.
Here was a high hill hanging right over the road and about twict as high as the mill, or maybe more, with a road winding up to the top. And pa says: "More treasure was found on the top of that hill than anywhere in the world, and who knows, maybe some is left there yet. Now I'm going to take Nancy Allen's money and put it in my vault in the court house. You boys can't have it. It's against the law. But I promise you that any treasure you find here, I'll let you keep."
I felt better now, and Mitch's eyes were standin' out of his head. Then pa said, "Get up" to the horse, and we drove into Petersburg about a mile. Mitch tried to get pa to say where it was best to dig; but pa said: "You boys go out there—see what you can find, dig around too, if you want to, and tell me what you find."
We got into town after a while and pa took the kettle with all the cans out of the rig and we followed him into his office and saw him put 'em into the vault and close the door and turn the knob. It was worse than buryin' a pet dog to see this. It took away our hopes. But there was no help for it. So we walked out and Mitch said, "If you'll come up to supper, I'll come back to your house and stay all night." "That's a go," I said, "And besides to-morrow is Saturday, and you promised to help me make garden, if I'd help you." And Mitch said all right, and so we went to his house.
The Miller family was awful big, five girls and Mitch, and all the healthiest children you ever saw, fat and rosy and full of fun; and we had the best times there you ever knew of. And Mr. Miller was always reading to Mrs. Miller, with all the children racin' through the house and laughin'. It made no difference—he read right on; but sometimes Mrs. Miller would look up from her sewin' and say, "Read that over, Robert, I lost that," and that would be when the children made such a noise you couldn't hear nothin'. So when we got to the house, there was Mr. Miller, readin' English history to Mrs. Miller, and the children already playin' blind man's buff, and makin' a terrible noise, though it was before supper. Zueline Hasson had come over and was goin' to stay to supper too. She was Angela Miller's friend besides bein' Mitch's sweetheart. You ought to have seen Mitch look when he saw Zueline. He just stood a minute like he was lookin' at an angel he was afraid of.
Pretty soon Mrs. Miller said she had to have a bucket of water, and Mitch went to pump it, and Zueline went with him. The sun was down now, but it was bright day, and the robins were singin' their heads off, and the air smelt of grass and flowers. I stood at the kitchen window and watched Mitch pump a cup of water for Zueline and hand it to her. And I knew what it meant; for Mitch had told me that he couldn't be near her without a lump comin' into his throat. He said it was like religion, for Mitch had got religion too, and he'd seen lots of people get it, and he knew what it was. And as for Zueline, she thought Mitch was the finest boy in town, which he was.
By and by we set down to supper. There was nine of us, and the awfullest gigglin' and talkin' you ever heard, even before Mr. Miller had hardly finished sayin' grace. We had oatmeal and eggs and biscuits and jam and milk; and Mr. Miller was talkin' English history to Mrs. Miller, no more disturbed by us children than if we wasn't there. After that we played blind man's buff. And every time Mitch could find Zueline, and trace her about the room, though she didn't make any noise at all, and I knew he couldn't see. It was almost spooky.
