On the following Saturday Jack, Pepper, and Dale went on a long tramp over the hills with George Strong. The teacher was looking for certain botanical specimens, and the boys assisted him all they could. The lads were glad to go out with the second assistant teacher, for his talks were always of interest and profit. By going with him they learned more of botany and geology than they did from their schoolbooks.
“By the way, Mr. Strong,” said Jack, as they were coming home, “have you learned anything more concerning that hidden pot of gold that your ancestors buried during the Revolutionary War?”
“Not a great deal, Ruddy. I have gained what looks like a clew to me. That is, that the pot of gold was buried in the hills some distance to the south of this spot.”
“But you have no idea of the exact location?” said Pepper.
“I have not. If I had I’d certainly go and dig for it.” And George Strong gave a short laugh.
“When you get time you ought to organize a regular treasure hunt,” put in Dale.
“I’ve been thinking of that. But I do not like to waste time on a wild-goose chase,” answered the teacher.
“What has become of those crazy men, Bart Callax and Paul Shaff?”
“I believe they are still out west, under the care of a distant relative.”
“I suppose you don’t want to meet them again,” said Jack.