The manners of the boatmen had so excited the curiosity of the inn-keeper and his guests, that no sooner had they left the inn than Bright and several others put on their hats and followed, resolved to see for themselves what was going on. Imagine, then, what must have been their surprise to find the men in the boat Bigelow Chapman and Hanz Toodleburg—both with heavy overcoats on. The boatmen were welcomed by the men in the boat, whose voices were plainly heard, and after exchanging a few words they threw in their oars carelessly and followed themselves. In another minute the little craft was heading up the stream, and disappeared in the thick mist.
"I have it all!" said Bright, turning to his companions with an assuring nod of the head, and lowering his voice. "Toodleburg—Chapman—a Dutchman and a Yankee—pick-axes, crowbars, and big ropes. Put them all together; add going off at night to it—dark and misty night at that—and there's something we'll all hear from in the wind. If Hanz and that quarrelsome Yankee have got their heads together, then the devil will get cheated out of Kidd's money. Sarves him right, too. Now them two is after Kidd's money. Always knew old Hanz could tell where it was."
The inn-keeper and his friends now returned to the inn and discussed the matter over warm punch until nearly midnight, or until their wits became so confused that the four men in the boat increased to forty. In short, Nyack waked up on the following morning to find herself filled with the wildest reports concerning this midnight expedition and its object.
The little boat moved on steadily up the stream, her sturdy oarsmen pulling at a measured stroke through the bewildering fog. In this way the boat was kept on up the river until past midnight, a glimpse of the land being caught here and there, an assurance to Hanz that they were not far out at sea. Indeed, Hanz began to get somewhat uneasy, and to wish himself back with Angeline in the little house. As this expedition, however, was to establish a solid basis for the great Kidd Discovery Company, out of which a fortune for Tite was to come, he was willing to run the risk of being lost in the fog for a night or two.
Towards morning the men became uneasy and hungry, and began cursing Kidd and all connected with him, and enquired of Chapman if he knew where he was going. Indeed, one of them declared it his belief that they had been brought on a fool's errand. Chapman, however, assured them that he knew exactly where Kidd had buried his treasure—that it was on a point not many miles below the Highlands, and under a big rock called the d——l's sounding stone. That if they kept on they would reach the place before daybreak. Hanz assured the men that every word Chapman said concerning Kidd was true, and this inspired their confidence, for they honestly believed his father to be an intimate friend of the pirate, and of course ought to know all about his money.
The boatmen now rested their oars and proceeded to refresh themselves. And while they were doing this, and wondering what this night expedition really meant, Hanz smoked his pipe and nursed his courage. In his heart, however, he wished himself out of the affair and in a more honest occupation. As for Chapman, he told a number of stories tended to excite the cupidity of the boatmen. After resting an hour or two the party proceeded about five miles further up the river, and landed just at daybreak on a point jutting into the west side of the river, and just above which there was a dilapidated little cabin, inhabited by a laboring man and his wife.
It would not do to disturb these poor people at so early an hour, Chapman said, nor to tell them what sort of a mission we were on. Thereupon Hanz and he proceeded up the bank of the river, to make, as he said, a discovery. So the boatmen were left to take care of themselves. The boatmen waited for nearly two hours, still neither Chapman nor Hanz returned. Where they had gone was fast becoming a mystery. The men at length became alarmed and disappointed, and proceeded towards the little house to enquire the name of the place, and see what they could do to get breakfast. Before they reached the house, however, the door opened and two half-naked, tow-headed urchins came toddling out, and as soon as they saw the strangers scampered back in a state of great alarm. A lusty dame, ragged and shoeless, and with her hair hanging loose about her neck, now came to the door, with a broom in one hand and a frying-pan in the other.
"Where on arth are you two come from?" enquired the woman, in a surly tone, as she raised her broom. "Another lot o' fools com'd to look for Mr. Kidd's money," she continued, without waiting for a reply. "Seems as if all the folks atween this and Yonkers had got crazy about Mr. Kidd, and was a comin' up here to dig for his money."
The men confessed that she was right in regard to their mission, and begged that she would get them some breakfast, for which they would pay her liberally.
"Yes!" rejoined the woman, angrily, "I know'd what you'd cum fur. Thar ain't nothin' in this house to get breakfast on—nothin' fur my poor old man and the two little children. Work's hard to get up here. And them fools what comes up here to dig for Mr. Kidd's money eat up what little we had, and did'nt pay fur it, nither. Go home, like honest men, and get some honester work than comin' up here thinkin' you kin find Mr. Kidd's money. Don't believe in Mr. Kidd—I don't!" The woman kept swinging her broom as she spoke. Then the two children ventured back and peered from behind her skirts at the strangers. "Don't believe he had any money, anyhow. If he had he was a mighty fool to come up here and bury it. People round here would 'a stole every dollar on it long ago. There's a Yankee and a Dutchman diggin' a big hole a piece above here—expectin' to find Mr. Kidd's money."