HIDDEN TREASURE.
“He will not come back tonight,” was Ree’s quiet comment, when the
savage vanished.
“Great guns, but he’s swift!” exclaimed John, more excitedly.
“He knows we are expecting him, and we will have no trouble to-night,”
said Ree, and time proved that he was right.
Early next morning the boys did have visitors, however. Two strange
Indians strode up to their camp as they were preparing to move. They
were the first the young men had seen in the wilderness, but they
appeared friendly and remained and talked for some time.
The boys learned from the savages that nearly all the Redmen of the
country had gone off to the northwest to join with the Delawares and
others already there, in fighting which was expected. The Indians had
kept a careful watch on the movements of General St. Clair and his
troops, who, even then, were marching into the territory which now
comprises northwestern Ohio, and a battle was looked for at any time.
These two Indians did not know, however, or declined to say, whether Big
Buffalo, who had made the boys so much trouble on their first trip into
the wilderness, had gone to join Captain Pipe and the other Delaware
warriors. They likewise professed ignorance when John, in language not
exactly diplomatic, demanded to know who the young Indian, who had twice
fired upon them was. Shrugging their shoulders, the savages showed a
desire to talk about other things, and both Ree and John were convinced
that the fellows knew more than they cared to acknowledge.
For friendship’s sake the young pioneers gave each of the savages a
small present as they separated, and the latter promised to send other
Indians whom they met to trade with the young men as the hunting season
progressed. However, as so many of the Redmen had gone off to the
expected scene of war, the boys realized at once that their work as
traders would not be so profitable as it had been the previous winter;
but, on the other hand, they would, on that account, have more time for
hunting and trapping, themselves, and could also work with less frequent
interruptions in the many tasks necessary to the improvement of the land
for which they had paid Captain Pipe.
The wounded stranger had become more and more restless during the
journey of this day, but not once did he come to his senses. Ree and
John gave him the best care they could and at the same time made all
haste possible, believing that if they could but reach their cabin and
place the sick man on a fairly comfortable bed, they could save his
life. Nevertheless it was necessary to make camp some time before
sundown to be on their guard against the return of the supposed
assailant of the stranger, and this they did.
But the wily savage did not appear. Perhaps he knew that he would be
expected; perhaps the journey of the boys was taking him too far from
his accustomed haunts to pursue them farther. The lads did not attempt
to decide the question, but remained ever closely on their guard, and
kept Ring, their dog, on duty as a special scout on both flanks and
front and rear, most of the time, while they worked their way steadily
forward.
Ring’s scouting, though not so intelligent as that of a human being, of
course, was very helpful to his masters; but most of all, it resulted in
the making of a discovery which had a most important bearing upon the
future and added a great deal indeed to the adventures which were in
store for the two friends.
“It was not far from here that Ichabod Nesbit fired at us, killing our
horse, last fall,” said John one evening as the boys were making camp.
“We must be somewhere near the spot. Very likely we shall pass it
tomorrow,” Ree answered.
“It is not over a mile from here,” John insisted. “When Nesbit shot at
us and ran back, Tom Fish and I followed after him, you remember, never
thinking that Black Eagle was chasing him. I recollect noticing at the
time that oak tree with the bark torn off by lightning over there. Why,
it couldn’t have been very far from here that Black Eagle caught Nesbit
and killed him.”
Ree had climbed into the cart to give the still unconscious stranger a
drink of water and to make his bed more comfortable in preparation for
the night, and gave no answer. So, thinking little more of the fate of
the outlaw of whom he had been speaking, John strolled over to a fallen
treetop at the edge of a little hill a dozen rods away, to gather an
armful of dry wood for the fire. Ring had gone on ahead of him and now
ran down into the valley where there was a stream of water. Thinking the
dog was only wanting a drink, the boy paid no attention to him, and was
starting back to camp when Ring came bounding forward, with some strange
object in his mouth.
“What have you found now, old fellow?” demanded John, putting his wood
down; for Ring was constantly discovering bones and other things in the
woods, and carrying them into camp. For answer the dog dropped the
strange object at his master’s feet.
“By gravy! Where did that come from?” was John’s soliloquy, the
indifference which had first marked his tones quickly disappearing.
With deep interest he examined a small, oblong, metal box, such as snuff
was carried in many years ago, turning it over and over, and trying in
vain to open it. The box was greatly discolored and so dingy that John
was not sure of the quality of the metal, though he supposed it to be
silver.
“Where’d you find it, Ring?” he asked, but the dog only wagged his tail
as his head was patted.
“There’s a strange thing to find in such a place as this,” cried John,
tossing the box to Ree, as he reached the camp. “Ring fetched it up out
of the valley yonder.”
“Well! What’s in it?” Ree asked interestedly. “There’s no name on it.
Open it.”
“I don’t know who has a better right,” was John’s reply, and without
more ado Ree struck the edge of the box sharply against the heavy wheel
of the cart. A piece of paper, yellow and water-stained, fell to the
ground as the lid flew open.
“Maybe this will tell whose box it is,” said John, picking the paper up,
“if it isn’t too dark to read it. Why, it’s only a piece of some old
letter or something,” he added, unfolding a long half-sheet of the size
commonly known as foolscap. “There’s no name at the beginning or the
end, that I can see.”
“It is a woman’s writing,” said Ree, looking over his chum’s shoulder.
“But I guess it doesn’t amount to much. Some poor chap’s sweetheart
wrote it, maybe, and he must have carried it a long while before he lost
it. I wish we knew just where Ring got hold of it; for”—and Kingdom’s
voice sank to a whisper—“I am afraid, John, it may be another case like
that of our friend in the cart here.”
“But let’s find out what it says,” John answered impatiently.
“It is too dark. It won’t do to make a target of ourselves by building
enough fire to see by, and we will have to let it go till morning.”
The wisdom of Ree’s remark about too much firelight was very apparent,
so John conquered his curiosity by joking his companion about the fear
he had expressed that the snuff box might have been found upon the
person of some white man cruelly murdered in the woods, as Theodore
Hatch had so nearly been.
“I suppose Ring got the box out of the man’s inside pocket, then
buttoned his coat up again,” he laughed.
It was so unusual for Ree to take a gloomy view of any circumstance or
discovery, that, realizing there was not much probability, after all,
that their dog had secured the box from the body of some unfortunate
hunter or explorer, as he had suggested, he was quite bored by John’s
fun. But he did not show it; that would have been more unlike him still.
It is rather strange that, notwithstanding that they had been talking of
Ichabod Nesbit just a minute or two before the strange box was found by
their dog, neither of the boys thought of the outlaw in connection with
the odd discovery, in all their conversation about the matter during the
evening. The box they rubbed and polished and made certain it was
silver, but no name or sign of whose property it might have been did
they discover, except the torn piece of paper, the writing on which it
was too dark to read.
The night passed without incident, and by dividing the long hours of
watching over the camp and wounded stranger, both Ree and John obtained
some sleep and rest—enough that with the coming of daylight each felt
more spry and fresh than at any time since the discovery of the
unconscious form of Theodore Hatch had resulted in the breaking of their
slumbers.
John watered the horses at the brook in the valley hard by and harnessed
Neb while Ree broiled some venison and toasted some corn bread, brought
from Pittsburg, for their breakfast. As they sat on a small log within
their camp, eating and talking, the conversation turned at once to the
silver snuff box and its written contents.
“And now read the letter, Ree; don’t keep a fellow waiting any longer,”
John demanded.
Kingdom secured the box from a small chest in the cart, where it had
been safely deposited over night, and as John ate away, a piece of bread
in one hand, a piece of venison in the other, watching with much
interest all that his friend did, the latter removed the lid and took
out the yellow-stained paper.
“Why, it is not all here! The letter has been torn in two right through
the middle!” he exclaimed. “We didn’t notice that last night.”
“Well, land o’ Goshen! Read what you can! I’ve been waiting all night to
find out what the writing is, and now you behave as though we had no
interest in the thing!” John cried with an impatient laugh.
“You read it! Look here! Now what can be made out of this?”
Together the young men studied the writing. As Ree had said, the
document had been torn squarely in two lengthwise, and that which
remained was so faded and so soiled that to read it was difficult. By
degrees, however, the wording and letters were made out as follows:
Buried near Philadel
taining upwards of one
and hidden with it is oth
to mention several pieces
not to exceed two
explained to both of y
to each, my dear nep
for you when you shal
of this letter together,
the treasure which I
It will never be claim
shall never again re
nor have I in the na
than a few years to live.
never see either of you a
have placed in a cedar
jewels and silver are
you how to find the cask
the Bunch of Grapes inn
west, is a woodland wh
by the many charred st
trees, caused by a fire
forest there some years
great deal of damage
anyone can tell you. But
that now. It is a lonely
you will not need go at
the buried treasure. Grow
stone’s throw, or perhaps
from the road are three
together. There are no oth
money and valuables I ha
twelve yards directly
yards directly north of
three trees, which is on
as you approach from the
of mullen has grown up
where the chest is hid
shall find, only as I
my separate letters to each
both share in this property,
such pains to arrange for
and the silver and the jew
be the property of whom
But I have seen to it
too deep for the plowshares
and very like it will nev
by some strange fortune,
yourselves should be the
the two halves of this le
“Well, I wish we had the other part of that letter!” cried John Jerome,
his eyes sparkling. “Somebody has been in this part of the country
looking for hidden treasure!”
“It appears that that is what the whole thing is about, but it isn’t in
this part of the country,” said Ree, more quietly. “Don’t you see, in
the very beginning it says, ‘Buried near Philadel’? Why, the rest of
that word, which is cut away, with the other half of the letter, would
make it Philadelphia, of course.”
“My! but I’d like to stumble onto that chest, just the same,” was John’s
reply. “Why, the letter tells of gold and silver and jewels—maybe it is
pirates, Ree! For pity’s sake, let’s read it through again!”
Much less excited than his companion, Ree went over the writing once
more, trying with John, but in vain, to supply the missing words at the
end of each line. They could make out nothing definite, though the more
they studied the more certain they were that some one had written a
description of the hiding place of certain money and valuables, and then
for some reason cut the paper in two.
The mystery about it all and the fascination which the possibility of
finding hidden treasure has for every one, kept the two boys poring over
the writing and talking of it much longer than they thought. Time passed
so quickly that half the forenoon was gone ere they could put the
subject by and prepare to resume their journey.
His brain cooler and his thoughts more calm than John’s, as he continued
to think of the mysterious document, a happy idea came to Ree’s mind and
he wondered that he had not thought of it before. Why not try, with the
aid of Ring, to learn just where the silver snuff box had lain? There
might be something to afford some clue to the owner of the box close by,
or it might be that he had been right in suggesting that some poor
fellow lay cold in death not far away.
Without delay Kingdom told John of his idea, and filled with a variety
of expectations, hopes and fears, that young man hailed the thought with
delight. Ring was called, and the silver box held where he could see and
smell it.
“Take it back, you rascal! Take it where you found it!” commanded Ree,
talking that tack with the dog, because he knew Ring would understand
better than if he asked him where he had found the box.
John joined in the command, and a look of understanding coming to the
dog’s eyes, though the poor fellow showed that he thought he was being
scolded for having done something wrong, he seized the box in his teeth
and trotted away.
With a hasty glance into the cart to see that the wounded man was safe
for the time being, both boys set off at a little run to follow Ring.
Straight to the hillside and down into the valley the dog went, then for
a considerable distance followed the stream therein.
Running around a clump of bushes, the dog disappeared from view. A half
minute later, when Ree and John came up with him, he was standing beside
a pile of stones half covered by brush. Under this little mound a
woodchuck or skunk had burrowed, and there were evidences that Ring had
started to dig out whatever animal was inside.
“You don’t suppose the silver box came out of that hole, do you?” John
asked of Ree, his tones showing disappointment.
“No, I don’t,” was the decisive answer, as Kingdom pulled away some dead
branches, and lifted up a flat stone, “but I do think that the bones—”
“Of Ichabod Nesbit are under those rocks!” cried John, excitedly
finishing the sentence.