He tugged at the rope, and fell backwards, almost upsetting Dick.
"Rot it all!" he exclaimed.
"'Tis rotted already," said Dick smiling. "It must have been there a long time."
"Cansta pull un out, Maister?" said Sam. "Maybe there's summat inside, and I do be most tarrible dry."
"We'll see; but you shan't drink neat spirit, Sam, so you needn't think it. Lend a hand here."
Between them the boys soon succeeded in working the tub from the loose earth in which it was imbedded. It was a small barrel about fourteen inches in diameter, bound with wooden hoops, exactly similar to those which the smugglers were wont to use. The broken rope, or "sling stuff," as it was called, attached to it proved that it had once formed part of a run cargo. Sam shook it; there was no "glug" of liquor.
"'Tis spiled, sure enough," he said, "but the hoops bean't broke."
"Here's another, Sam," said Dick, who had been looking into the hole left by the removal of the tub. "I can't help thinking we have come to an old haunt of the smugglers; yes, I understand it now. You know there was a landslip hundreds of years ago, just beyond the cove. The earth must have fallen in on a cargo before it could be removed."
"But why didn' they dig 'em out arterwards? And why be the tub as empty as a drum?"
"Yes, 'tis strange they did not dig them out, but the emptiness is easy to understand. The spirit has run away."