“I shall get away to-morrow, I think, but where I shall go I can’t tell yet.”
“Do you need any money?”
“No; my uncle left me some.”
Ernest had not yet secured the gold, but he knew exactly where it was, and now that all his business was ended he felt that it was time to possess himself of it. Accordingly, he took a spade from the house, and bent his steps in the direction of the old oak tree.
He went alone, for he thought it best not to take anyone into his confidence.
Arrived at the tree, Ernest measured off five feet in the direction mentioned by Peter and began to dig. It did not take him long to reach the box, for it was only a foot beneath the surface of the ground.
It proved to be a cigar box, for Peter was fond of smoking, though he usually smoked a pipe. Ernest lifted the lid, and saw a small roll inclosed in brown wrapping paper, which on being removed revealed twenty five-dollar gold pieces. He regarded them with satisfaction, for they afforded him the means of leaving Oak Forks and going into the great world which he had such a curiosity to enter.
Hidden behind a tree only a few feet away was Tom Burns, the tramp and vagabond.
He had come from Daneboro, and was prowling round the neighborhood searching for old Peter’s hidden treasure. He had deliberated as to whether the cabin or the fields was the more likely place to have been selected. He had nothing in particular to guide him. He did not, however, venture to approach the house just yet, as it would probably be occupied by Ernest.
“I wish I knowed where the old man hid his boodle,” muttered Tom. “I can’t dig all over.”