BURNS RETURNS
When Peter Brant was laid away under a tree not far from the cabin where
he had ended his days Ernest felt that he was at liberty to begin the new
life that lay before him. Despite the natural sadness which he felt at
parting with his old friend, he looked forward not without pleasant
anticipations to the future and what it might have in store for him.
Oak Forks had few attractions for him. He had a literary taste, but could
not get books. Peter Brant had about a dozen volumes, none of which he had
read himself, but Ernest had read them over and over again. None of the
neighbors owned any books. Occasionally a newspaper found its way into the
settlement, and this, when it came into Ernest's hands, was read,
advertisements and all.
How, then, was his time passed? Partly in hunting, partly in fishing--for
there was a small river two miles away--but one could not fish or hunt all
the time. He had often felt a vague yearning to go to Chicago or New York,
or anywhere where there would be a broader field and large opportunities,
and he had broached the subject to Peter.
"I can't afford to go, Ernest," the old man would reply. "I must live on
the little I have, for I am too old to work."
"But I am young. I can work," the boy would answer.
"A boy like you couldn't earn much. Wait till I am dead, and then you can
go where you like."
This would always close the discussion, for Ernest did not like to
consider such a possibility. Peter represented his world, for he had no
one to cling to except the man whom he supposed to be his uncle.
Now, however, the time had come when he could go forth and enter upon a
career. Accordingly he declined Joe Marks' offer to take him into the
store. He understood very well that it was only meant in kindness, and
that he was not really needed.
"You don't need me, Joe," he said. "You are very kind, but there must be
real work for me somewhere."
"Well, my lad, I won't stand in your way, but I've known you a long time,
and I shall hate to lose sight of you."
"I'll came back some day, Joe--that is if I am prosperous and can."
"If you are not prosperous, if you fall sick and need a home and a friend,
come back then. Don't forget your old friend Joe Marks."
"I won't, Joe," said Ernest heartily.
"You've got another friend here, Ernest," added Luke Robbins. "I'm a poor
man, and my friendship isn't worth much, but you have it, all the same."
Ernest grasped the hands of both. He felt that each was a friend worth
having.
"You may be sure that I won't forget either of you," he said.
"When do you expect to go, Ernest, and where?" asked Joe Marks.
"I shall get away to-morrow, I think, but where I shall go I can't tell
yet."
"Do you need any money?"
"No; my uncle left me some."
Ernest had not yet secured the gold, but he knew exactly where it was, and
now that all his business was ended he felt that it was time to possess
himself of it. Accordingly, he took a spade from the house, and bent his
steps in the direction of the old oak tree.
He went alone, for he thought it best not to take anyone into his
confidence.
Arrived at the tree, Ernest measured off five feet in the direction
mentioned by Peter and began to dig. It did not take him long to reach the
box, for it was only a foot beneath the surface of the ground.
It proved to be a cigar box, for Peter was fond of smoking, though he
usually smoked a pipe. Ernest lifted the lid, and saw a small roll
inclosed in brown wrapping paper, which on being removed revealed twenty
five-dollar gold pieces. He regarded them with satisfaction, for they
afforded him the means of leaving Oak Forks and going into the great world
which he had such a curiosity to enter.
Hidden behind a tree only a few feet away was Tom Burns, the tramp and
vagabond.
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," muttered 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 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."
All things seemed to favor the tramp. Ernest stopped when he came to the
oak tree, and it was evident that this was the spot of which he was in
search.
"Why, that's where I was lyin' the other night!" thought Burns. "If I had
only knowed! Why, the gold was right under me all the time."
He watched with eagerness while Ernest was digging. He no longer doubted
that this was the place where the gold was hidden. Ernest could have no
other object in digging in this place.
"I wonder how much there is," thought Burns. "There ought to be as much as
a thousand dollars. Perhaps there's two or three. But even if there is
only a thousand it will set me on my feet. I'll soon get out of this
neighborhood. I'll go to Chicago or New York, and I'll live in clover.
I'll make up for lost time."
When Ernest found the roll of coins, and taking them out put them in his
pocket, he was not disappointed, for he knew what to expect, but Tom Burns
was in dismay.
"Only a hundred dollars!" he thought. "What's a hundred dollars? The old
man ought to be ashamed of himself!"
However, one thing was certain. A hundred dollars was better than nothing.
It would take him to Chicago and enable him to live in comfort for a
while. Besides, he might multiply it many times at the gaming table, for
Tom Burns had been a gambler in his day. He certainly did not propose to
disdain the sum which fortune had placed in his way because it was so
small.
Ernest put the gold pieces in his pocket and turned to go back to the
cabin, when a voice reached him.
"Look here, boy, I'll trouble you to hand over that money!"