"Notis
"to the luckey person in to whose hans this dockyment may happen to fall. thare is a big fortune for you in this mounting if you have got the pluck to do what I have writ on the inside. thare is danger in it, but mebbe that hant won't bother you as it has bothered me ever since I pushed him in to the gorge."
Silas was in another profuse perspiration long before he spelled out the last word in the "notis," but now the cold chills began creeping all over him. His breath came in short, quick gasps, and his hand trembled visibly, as he thrust the letter into his pocket. Then he cast frightened glances on all sides of him, glided back to his wagon with long noiseless footsteps and reached for the reins.
The commands which he usually shouted at his aged and infirm beast, were uttered in a whisper, and the horse, not being accustomed to that style of driving, had to be severely admonished with a hickory switch before he would settle into the collar and start the very light load behind him.
Silas never could have told how he got down the hill without breaking his crazy old wagon all to pieces, for his mind was so completely taken up with other matters that he never thought to look out for the rough places in the road, or to give a wide berth to the stumps. He seemed to be treading on air. He hoped and believed that he was on the point of making a most important discovery; but, great as was his desire to make himself the possessor of the fortune that was hidden somewhere in the mountain he had just left, he could not screw up courage enough to stop and read the letter. He wanted to put the woods far behind him before he did that. The "notis" he had read contained some words that he did not like to recall to mind.
"Didn't I say that there had been a heap of plundering and stealing a going on in this country in bygone days?" said Silas to himself. "This letter proves it, and the words that's printed onto the envelope tells me some things that I don't like to hear tell of. There's likewise been some killing a going on up there. A feller has been shoved into one of the gorges, and his hant (some folks calls it a ghost or spirit) has come back, and keeps a bothering of the feller that pushed him in. I don't know whether or not I can get my consent to go up there and dig for that fortune, even if I knew where to look for it, which I don't."
At the end of half an hour, Silas Morgan drew a long breath of relief, and stopped looking behind him.
He was safely out of the woods, and moving quietly along the river road, within shouting distance of his cabin.
Then his courage all came back to him, and he was ready for any undertaking, no matter how dangerous it might be, so long as there was money behind it.
"Now, Silas, let's look at this thing kind o' sensible like," said he to himself. "There must be as much as a thousand dollars up there in the mounting. If there wasn't, it wouldn't be a fortune, would it? And what's to hender you from getting it for you own? If you go up there in the daytime, that hant can't bother you none, 'cause I've heard folks say that they never show themselves except on dark and stormy nights; but if this one comes out and tells you to leave off digging for that fortune, you can fill him so full of bird shot that he won't be of no use as a hant any more, can't you? Get along with you!" he shouted, bringing the heavy switch down upon the horse's back with no gentle hand. "I ain't got much more wood hauling for you to do, 'cause I'm going after them thousand dollars."
A few minutes later Silas reached his home. Dropping the reins and whip to the ground, he bolted into the cabin, closing the door behind him.