"We can't do anything about that. Matters must take their course. I agree with you that it would be wiser for us to leave town for a while—not that I have any serious fears, but only as a matter of precaution—but I intend to have that Mansfield money before I go, make no mistake about that."
"But how do you propose to get it? Without the parchment you don't know anything more about its hiding-place than you did before."
"Rube, it is concealed somewhere about the old house, I'll be willing to bet all I'm worth. It was there on the night that—but no matter about that—and I'm sure it is there now. We never wanted that hidden wealth half as much as we do now. Frank Mansfield is almost of age; my scheme to convict him of crime may have worked and may not. We can't tell into whose hands the papers may fall. What we want is the money now."
"All very true, but how are you going to get it, when you don't know where it is?"
"I'm going to search for it, Rube!" cried Callister bringing his fist down upon the table with a bang. "I'm going to search for it, and I'll find it if I have to tear the old rookery to pieces bit by bit. Come, we've been here too long already. Wherever you think yourself the safest, there hide for the next few days until we see what comes of this affair. Meanwhile, I'll go home. To-morrow, at midnight, meet me at the gate of the Three Oaks, and we'll search for this hidden treasure as we never searched before. I've no notion of seeing it drop like a ripe cherry into the open mouth of that cub of a boy while I can raise a hand to prevent it."
The pair arose and passed out of the saloon.
The sleeping Paddy did not attract their attention—they did not perceive the boy behind the barrels at all.
Once in the street they separated, the man Tisdale going down Cherry street, Elijah Callister up Oliver street to Chatham Square.
He had hardly passed Henry street before a ragged newsboy went past him on the run.
"Sun—Herald—World!" he cried. "Morning papers! Herald—Sun—World—Journal!"