To Jake’s great amazement his father replied—
“No, sonny, you keep it. You earned it, fair and squar’, an’ I won’t take it from you. I shall make fifty dollars hard cash outen them guns we’ve got hid in the bresh, an’ that will be enough to run me for a little while. Now take your boat to pieces an’ bring him up to the house.”
So saying, Matt Coyle walked off, leaving Jake lost in wonder.
“Well, this beats me,” said the boy, after he had taken a minute or two to collect his wits. “Pap wouldn’t take half my five dollars, an’ he’s found a way to make fifty dollars outen them guns! I don’t b’lieve it,” added Jake, his face growing white with excitement and alarm. “He’s found my silver mind; that’s what’s the matter of him.”
The contortions Jake went through when this unwelcome conviction forced itself upon him were wonderful. He strode along the beach, pulling his hair one minute and clapping his hands and jumping up and down in his tracks the next, and acting altogether as if he had taken leave of his senses. I had never before witnessed such a performance, having always been accustomed to the companionship of those who were able to control themselves, under any and all circumstances. After a little while he ceased his demonstrations, and picking me up bodily, carried me into the bushes and left me there.
“I won’t take him to pieces, nuther,” said Jake, aloud. “I’ll leave him here so’t I can get him without pap’s bein’ knowin’ to it, an’ when night comes I’ll go up an’ see after my silver mind. If pap has found it, he’ll have to give me half of it, cash in hand, or I’ll tell on him.”
Although Jake really believed that his “claim” had been “jumped,” he did not neglect to make preparations for working it in case he found his fears were groundless. He came back to me about the middle of the afternoon, and as he approached I saw him take a long, stout line out of his pocket. What he intended to do with it I could not tell; but I found out an hour or two afterward, for then I had a second visitor in the person of Matt Coyle, who came stealing through the bushes without causing a leaf to rustle. He stopped beside me and picked up the line.
“He didn’t take the canoe to pieces an’ carry him up to the house, like I told him to, an’ he’s stole his mam’s clothes-line and brung it down here,” said Matt to himself. “Now, what did he do that for? He’s goin’ to use ’em both to-night, Jakey is, an’ what’s he goin’ to do with ’em? He’s a mighty smart boy, but he’ll find that he can’t fool his pap.”
The hours passed slowly away, and finally the woods were shrouded in almost impenetrable darkness. The time for action was drawing near. I waited for it impatiently, because I was sure that the temporary ownership of those six thousand dollars would be decided before morning, and I felt some curiosity to know who was going to get them. While I was thinking about it, Jake Coyle glided up and laid hold of me. In two minutes more I was in the water and making good time up the lake towards the sunken silver mine; but before I had left the woods at the head of the outlet very far behind I became aware that we were followed. I distinctly saw a light Indian Lake skiff put out from the shadow of the trees and follow silently in our wake. The boat was one of the two that had been stolen by Matt and his family on the day that Mr. Swan and his party burned their camp; and, although the night was dark, I was as certain as I could be that its solitary occupant was Matt Coyle himself. He held close in to the trees on the left hand side of the lake, and as often as Jake stopped and looked back the pursuer stopped also; and, as he took care to keep in the shadow, of course he could not be seen.
“Pap thinks he’s smart,” muttered Jake, after he had made a long halt and looked up and down the lake to satisfy himself that there was no one observing his movements, “an’ p’raps he is, but not smart enough to get away with the whole of them six thousand. If I don’t find them grip-sacks, I shall know sure enough that he’s been here before me; an’ if he don’t hand over half of it the minute I get home I’ll tell on him afore sun-up. Here I am, an’ it won’t[won’t] take me long to see how the thing stands.”