Something black moved in the stumpy branches, at the top of the thick, low trunk. Then with a hoot, a great owl floated out, on soft, silent wings, and flew swiftly away into the shadows.
Danny breathed hard. For a while he did not move; then, giving way once more to his impatience, he went up to the tree.
It was curious that the scraping sound should have seemed to come from the very heart of the trunk; it must be a hollow tree, he told himself. Then that was where the hobgoblin lived. Perhaps he had changed himself into an owl, and flown away on his midnight adventures! An idea suddenly struck Danny. He would climb the tree, and see if it was possible to get down into its hollow inside. He would then find the home of the hobgoblin, and perhaps the mysterious door into fairy-land! He lit his lantern and hooked it on a branch; then climbed up by the knots which seemed to form little steps.
Yes, sure enough the tree was hollow. There was a hole down into its inside just big enough for a boy to squeeze through. Danny tied a piece of string to his lantern, and let it down through the hole. Carefully he lowered it until at last it rested on the ground. Then he peered down. To his amazement he found that a little ladder led down the inside of the tree!
Without a moment’s hesitation he descended the ladder. The tree was like a tiny round room inside, and in the floor at his feet was a hole with a little, narrow staircase leading down.
Danny pinched himself. Was he dreaming? No, he was certainly awake. Could this really be the way into fairy-land? He had only half believed in the hobgoblin all the time. But now he began to think it must really all be true.
Taking up his lantern, he carefully descended the steps, one by one—there were ten of them—and found himself in a little kind of grotto. The walls were of earth and full of gnarled tree roots. The grotto was empty, except for a rough wooden chest that looked as if it had been made by someone who was not a very good carpenter.
With trembling hands Danny raised the lid and looked in. A number of large leather bags were ranged, side by side, at the bottom, and among them was a stout leather book. Breathing hard, Danny lifted out one of the bags. It was very heavy. He placed it on the floor and it chinked. Then he untied the string, and put his hand in. It was a fistful of glittering coins that he drew forth!
Suddenly it all flashed into his mind. The miser and his hidden money—this must have been his hiding-place! Where the hobgoblin came in he did not know or care. All that mattered was that he had found the hidden treasure that belonged to Uncle Bill, and would make him a rich man. One by one Danny lifted out the leather bags. “There must be thousands of pounds there,” he told himself. The sovereigns were funny looking ones, with the head of Queen Victoria when quite young on them.
Last of all he took out the fat, leather book. Then, very carefully, he managed to hoist one bag after another up the tree, and dump it down on the snow. At last he climbed down himself.