Ruth explained that this tree was an old landmark. It had been there ever since the oldest inhabitant could remember. It was known as "Old Sentinel," having stood sentinel over Treasureholme for at least a hundred years.
"What is in that hole?" demanded Bab.
"General's buried treasure," answered Tom carelessly. "He hides his beef bones there."
Now they moved on together, making an attractive picture as they walked. Grace and Ruth were the only ones of the party who wore furs. Mollie wore her heavy dark-blue traveling coat, with a gentian-blue scarf tied about her throat. Bab, with a scarlet wing perched at a jaunty angle in her brown cloth hat, reminded one of a robin redbreast.
"You don't think you will catch cold?" asked Ruth solicitiously.
Bab assured her that they would not, to which Ruth made no reply, though she hugged a dark Christmas secret closer to her heart and chuckled inwardly.
"There is the old burying ground," she announced finally, pointing to a succession of hillocks a short distance ahead of them. These were of a mushroom shape, with the tops sloping gently to the ground. The girls thought them the most curious-looking graves they ever had seen. They observed a very large mound in the centre. Ruth explained that this was supposed to be the grave of an Indian chief.
"If that is true, his weapons and his faithful dog are buried beside him," continued Ruth. "These graves, I believe, are very old. No one appears to know just how old they are. Do you wish to see the rest of them?"
The girls did. Mollie suggested that perhaps if they remained there long enough they might possibly meet the ghost of the old chief.
"What would you do if we should?" questioned Ruth whimsically.