“I DO hear it,” said Clarence, as soon as he caught the sound that had attracted Godfrey’s attention. “There’s some one digging out there in the field.”
“That’s jest what it is,” said Godfrey, in a trembling voice. “Don’t let’s go no further, Mr. Clarence.”
“What’s the use of being afraid?” returned the boy. “It is a man, of course, for if it were anything else it couldn’t use a shovel. You are not afraid of a man, are you?”
No, there was no man in that part of the country that Godfrey was afraid to meet on equal terms; and to prove it he laid down his shovel, clenched his hands and jumped up and knocked his heels together.
“I don’t know what you mean by that nonsense,” said Clarence, impatiently. “If you are afraid, go home; if you are not, come along with me!”
As the boy said this he placed his hands on the top rail of the fence and vaulted lightly over it, closely followed by Godfrey, who touched the ground on the opposite side almost as soon as Clarence did. Side by side they moved cautiously in the direction from which the sound of the digging came, and after advancing a short distance, Godfrey threw himself flat on his face to make some investigations. The night being very dark, of course all objects on the ground were invisible to them; but by placing themselves in such a position that they would have the lighter sky for a background, any object they wished to examine was rendered quite distinct to their gaze. This they both proceeded to do, Clarence following Godfrey’s example, and when they arose to their feet again a few seconds later and compared notes, they found that both had arrived at the same conclusion—that there was a man in the field but a few rods away from them, and that he was digging a hole with a shovel. He had gone down so deep already that his legs as far as his knees were concealed, and that proved that he had not come there to steal potatoes. Was he looking for the barrel? If so, who was he, and how did he find out that there was any barrel there?
“Come on,” whispered Clarence, as these thoughts passed through his mind. “We’ll soon know all about it. Be careful not to make the least noise. If he starts to run go after him and bring him back. We must find out who he is, and what he means by this business.”
Guided by the strokes of the shovel, which fell upon their ears at regular intervals, Clarence and his companion slowly and cautiously drew nearer to the workman, who, greatly to their surprise, never paid the least attention to their approach. He must have heard the squeaking of Clarence’s boots—they would squeak, no matter how carefully he stepped—and the rustle of the dry grass and vines that covered the potato-hills, but he was not frightened from his work. Finally Clarence was near enough to him to lay hold of his arm. Even then the man never looked up or ceased his work, and Clarence began to feel a he had never felt before. His heart beat rapidly and all his strength seemed to be leaving him, but he managed to say, in a very steady voice:
“Look here, young fellow, this sort of game won’t work with us, you know. Come up out of that hole and let’s see who you are.”
“O, my soul!” exclaimed Godfrey, who had stooped down to obtain a peep at the man’s face. “Turn him loose, Mr. Clarence! That’s ole Jordan’s haunt! I’d know that ole white coat anywhar. O, my sakes alive!”