Hidden behind a tree only a few feet away was a person with whom we are already acquainted. It was Tom Burns, the tramp and vagabond.
He, too, was out in search of gold. 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," soliloquized Tom. "I can't dig all over."
In fact digging was not in Tom's line. It was too much like work, and if there was anything to which Tom was bitterly opposed it was work of any kind.
"The boy must know. Likely the old man told him," he finally concluded. "I'll watch the boy."
He feared he might be too late. Had it been his own case, he would have searched for the gold immediately after the funeral. He naturally supposed that Ernest would do the same. He therefore lost no time in prowling around the cabin, with the especial object of watching Ernest's movements. He was especially favored, as he thought, when from a distance he saw Ernest leaving the cabin with the spade in his hand.
The tramp's heart was filled with joy.
"He is going to dig for the treasure," he said. "I'll keep him in sight."
Tom Burns had no difficulty in doing this, for Ernest bent his steps in his direction.
"I hope he won't discover me," thought Burns; "at any rate, not till I find out where he's going to dig."