BADLY FOOLED
Morton gravely extended his hand and Andy shook it.
"Let's see, now," said the town youth, pretending to be racking his
memory, "whereabouts could that money be hid? It's probably in some old
shack or cave somewhere. Say!" he shouted as though struck by an idea,
"I'll wager I know the identical place where it's stowed away. Come to
think of it, I'm sure I do."
"Where? Where?" questioned Andy eagerly.
"Well, I know you're on the square and won't give me the double cross,"
replied Morton, "so I don't mind telling you what I know.
"There was an old fellow partly tipsy one winter night, who told me a
long yarn about knowing where there was a mint of money hidden away. I
didn't pay any attention to him then, because I thought he was just
raving, the way those people often do. But now I come to think of it, I
remember his speaking of an old hut that was almost buried in a sand
dune close to the water. Let's see now, where is there an old shack that
answers to that description?"
Morton pretended to meditate deeply, while Andy waited breathlessly for
him to continue.
"I have it!" exclaimed Morton abruptly. "It's the place old Totten used
to have on the beach just north of Bartanet. He kept very close to
himself, but he always seemed to have slathers of money. He died two or
three years ago, and since then the sand has nearly rolled over his
shack. I'll venture to say that if we dug there we'd find money enough
to make us both rich for the rest of our lives."
"By jinks! but I believe you're right," blurted out Andy with an
avaricious glitter in his shifty eyes. "Let's go there to-night and see
if we can find it."
"Oh, we won't be able to go to-night," protested Morton. "We'll have to
get picks and shovels, and we'll have to do it so quietly that nobody
will catch on. And I can't do it to-morrow night, either," he continued,
as though just recalling something. "I've got an engagement that I can't
break. But I'll make it the night after that, if you're willing."
"Sure!" assented Andy. "That suits me fine."
But there was a reluctance to look into Morton's eyes as Andy spoke,
that convinced the joker that his plans would work out as he expected.
He knew Andy Shanks pretty well, and he was sure that Andy would not
wait till the appointed time to hunt for the treasure. He guessed that
Andy would endeavor to cheat him out of his share of the fictitious
treasure by getting in before the time agreed upon. And he made no
mistake in reckoning on the mean nature of Andy Shanks.
The two arranged the details of the expedition, such as securing shovels
and picks and candles. Then they parted, after Morton had exacted an
oath of secrecy from the other.
The latter was no sooner left to himself, however, than he began
revolving in his mind plans to outwit the friend, who, he thought, had
confided in him so completely.
"It's a lucky thing for me," thought Andy, "that he can't be there
to-morrow night. I'll get a pick and shovel somewhere and beat him to
it. If he's such a fool as to tell all he knows, he deserves to lose his
share."
In the meantime, Morton was hugging himself in anticipation. He confided
the matter to a few of his friends, who were delighted at the chance of
playing a joke on Shanks, who was anything but popular in the town. All
volunteered to help Morton, and having secured an old trunk, they armed
themselves with spades and sallied forth in the direction of Totten's
old shack.
After shoveling the sand away from before the door, they entered and
started to "plant the treasure," as one of them expressed it. They dug a
hole four feet deep and wide enough to contain the trunk. Then they
filled the trunk with sand and lowered it into the excavation. This
done, they filled the hole up again, replaced the rotting boards that
formed the floor and surveyed the completed job with satisfaction.
"I guess that will keep him busy for a while," remarked Morton,
"especially as he won't know where to look and will have to dig the
whole place up, more or less. It's going to be more fun than a circus."
"But we want to see him while he's at it," objected one of his
followers. "How are we going to manage it?"
"That's so," agreed Morton. "Guess we'll have to clear the sand away
from the little window there."
The lads set to work with a will and soon had enough of the sand
shoveled away to permit a clear view of the interior of the shack. This
accomplished, they closed the door and heaped sand against it, leaving
everything as they had found it.
"Well," declared Morton, "that was considerable work, but it will be
worth it. We'll hustle back to town now and tell the other fellows that
everything's all right. Then we'll have nothing to do but wait for the
fun. I'm as sure as I am that I'm alive that that sneak will try to
circumvent me. I could see it in his eye."
Andy spent a restless night, his mind busied with plans to get the best
of Morton. He rose early the next morning and roamed restlessly about
town. The great problem confronting him was how to get the pick and
shovel without Morton's getting wind of it. He finally concluded that it
would be taking too much of a risk to buy the implements in the village,
so he made a trip to a town five miles distant and got the necessary
tools.
Night came at last, and the sneak sallied forth and set out for the old
cabin, the location of which Morton had been careful to give to him.
Throwing down his tools, Andy carefully reconnoitred the surroundings.
The jokers had done their work so carefully that he saw nothing amiss,
and after satisfying himself that the coast was clear, he started
digging in the sand in front of the door.
It did not take him long to gain an entrance, and after getting in he
lit two of his candles and took a careful survey of the surroundings.
There was nothing in sight to give him a clue. The sole furniture
consisted of an old table and a couple of rickety chairs.
Somewhat at a loss where to begin, Andy finally started sounding the
rough planking of the floor. When he came to the place where the planks
had been ripped up the preceding evening, he saw that they were loose
and resolved to take a chance there. He removed the boards, took off his
coat and began to dig in earnest.
He made rapid progress at first, but soon his muscles, flabby and unused
to such strenuous exercise, began to protest and he was forced to take a
breathing spell.
Had he chanced to glance at the little window, his labors might have
come to a premature conclusion. Grouped outside were Morton and his
friends, almost bursting with smothered laughter. The sight of Andy,
whose antipathy to work was well known, sweating away over the hardest
kind of labor, amused them immensely.
Wholly unconscious of the amusement he was providing, Andy resumed his
task and worked with such good will that it was not long before his
spade struck on the edge of the buried trunk. He uttered a shout of
delight and scattered the remaining sand in every direction. Before long
he had uncovered the top of the trunk. This he tried to lift out of the
hole. Finding it too heavy for this, however, and not able to restrain
his impatience to see what it contained, he seized the pickax and
smashed in the top.
His chagrin may be imagined when instead of the treasure he expected he
found that the trunk was filled with sand. On top of this was a sheet of
paper which Morton had placed there the previous evening. It contained
one word done in heavy capitals:
_STUNG!_
For a few moments Andy gazed stupidly, unable for the time to understand
that he had been made the victim of a hoax. While this was slowly
dawning upon him, the door burst open and, with a yell of laughter, the
crowd rushed into the hut.
Andy jumped as though he had been shot, and, scrambling out of the hole,
stood with open mouth facing the laughing boys. His surprised and
discomfited attitude was so ludicrous that their laughter increased
tenfold and they fairly shrieked.
"Wh-what's the big idea, anyway?" gasped Andy at last. "How did you
fellows come to be here?"
"Well, you see," replied Morton, sobering down a little, "I counted on
your doing the crooked thing and I wasn't mistaken."
"I'll get even with you some day," growled Andy. "You think you're
pretty smart, don't you?"
"Since you ask me, I must admit I cherish some such idea," admitted
Morton, his eyes twinkling. "The fellows from the city don't always know
everything, you understand."
"You'll live to be sorry for this trick," blustered Andy. "You just see
if you don't."
He made his way to the door and passed out amid another burst of
merriment from those who had witnessed his discomfiture, leaving his
implements lying where he had thrown them.
An account of the affair spread quickly over the village and life for
Andy became so unbearable that before another twenty-four hours he left
the town.
In the natural course of events the story came to the ears of the boys
at the lighthouse.
"I'd have given something to be there," declared Bill. "It must have
been worth a year's allowance to see his face when all those fellows
gave him the laugh. He thinks such a lot of himself that it must have
been a bitter pill to swallow."
"Let alone his not finding what he went after," put in Fred. "It hit him
in his pride and his pocketbook, and they're both sensitive spots with
Andy."
"But how do you suppose he got wind of our being in search of treasure?"
queried Teddy.
"I was wondering at that," replied Lester, "and the only way I could
figure it out is that he must have followed us the day we were at
Bartanet, and heard what we were talking about when we were eating."
"Well," concluded Fred, "he couldn't have got anything of real value
from what we said, or he wouldn't have gone digging in old Totten's
shack. But it's up to us to put a padlock on our lips when there's any
chance of being overheard. We may not be so lucky the next time."