“Of course we know it is in the ground or else you wouldn’t need a spade and pick-ax to throw it out with,” answered the storekeeper. “You tell us where it is, and let us go up and dig for it.”
“I can’t tell you for I don’t know;” said Nat.
“Very well; then you can stay here until you find out,” said the man, fiercely. “When you get so hungry and thirsty that you can’t stand it any longer, you just yell and I will be around. Will you tell us?”
“I have already answered your question until I am tired of it,” said Nat, seating himself on the box, with a determined look on his face. “If I stay here until I die you won’t get anything else out of me.”
“Well, good-by,” said the man, moving toward the door. “We are going up right now to look for it, and when we come back, perhaps we will tell you how much we have made. Watch him, Benny. Keep an eye on him, and if he goes near that window, just take him down and serve him the way you did that burglar that got into the store last week.”
With this parting advice to his dog the storekeeper went out followed by his customer, and Nat heard the key as it grated harshly in the lock. He sat perfectly still, he was afraid to do otherwise, for, now that his eyes became somewhat accustomed to the darkness, he could see that the dog kept his position beside the door, and seemed to be awaiting some move on his part. Once or twice he licked his huge jaw as if he were tired of waiting.
“Well, sir, I am in for it now,” said Nat, running his eye along the wall as if he were looking for that window of which the storekeeper had spoken. “I would not be safer if I were shut up in jail. That dog—Whew! I don’t want anything to do with him.”
The dog evidently knew what opinion Nat cherished toward him, for after waiting in vain for him to make some advances, he came over to Nat and laid his chin upon his knee. Nat could hardly keep from yelling when he saw the dog advancing toward him, but when he reached the boy and worked his nose as if he were trying to place his hand upon his head, his heart gave a thrill of delight.
“Well, by gum!” said Nat, unconsciously making use of the same expression that Caleb had used when Nat threw him headlong into the bushes. “I believe the dog is friendly;” and he raised his hand and placed it on the dog’s head.
Nat had never been more astonished in his life. The dog’s appearance was against him; but that was as far as it went. He was a good, honest dog in reality, and seemed to sympathize with Nat in his trouble.