OPENING THE STRANGE BOX
“Didn’t you get it, Jack?” asked Josh, carefully, as the Commodore
joined the eager group beside the tent. “We all near broke our necks
a-tryin’ to see; and I say you grabbed the box; but Buster here seems as
set on it that you had to give up the job, because you got back so fast.
Here, what d’ye think of that, Buster? See what he’s a-carryin’ under
his arm, would you? It takes Jack to do things with a rush, and yet
never have a breakdown!”
“Less noise, Josh!” cautioned Jack, “you forget who’s so close by. Even
if the wind does rattle the new leaves on the trees, and the water churn
against the rocks on the shore, they might happen to hear you. Lower
that sharp voice of yours when you say ‘Told you so’!”
All the same every one of his five companions seemed delighted with his
success. Buster had to even put out his hand and touch the box, before
he would actually be convinced. Buster, you see, was something of a
Doubting Thomas; he might take other people’s word on occasion; but he
preferred to actually know that things were so, from his own experience.
“Why, it is a box, sure as you live,” he was heard to mutter, as though
surprised that the whole thing did not turn out to be just a dream; and
that he would soon wake up.
“And is it heavy, Jack?” asked George, anxiously.
“Oh! just so-so,” answered the hero of the raid, as he passed the
article in question around, so that everybody could get the heft of it,
even Buster.
It was laughable to see the way the fat boy took hold of the little
chest; but then each one firmly believed that it contained quite a
little fortune, and consequently there was something of due reverence
for wealth in his way of handling the thing.
“I bet you they’ll be hoppin’ mad when they find out it’s been sneaked
away from them after all their bully trouble in hidin’ the same,”
ventured Buster.
“Yes, and to think of the cuteness of that fellow makin’ out that it was
going to be reckoned just a regular little grave,” said George, with a
chuckle. “Guess he thought that nobody would ever dare dig it up then,
because they say, it’s sure a sign of bad luck to disturb a body.”
“But what are we going to do now?” demanded Josh.
“Jack, darlint, ain’t we a-goin’ to open the box, and say for oursilves
what lies inside?” asked Andy. “Sure, ’tis mesilf that’d loike tell fale
with me own hands all the money it must contain. ’Tis a bank cashier I’m
intindin’ to be some foine day, and I loike nothin’ better than to
handle cash.”
“Me too,” echoed Josh.
In fact, that was just what every fellow must have been thinking about
then; for they were pressing closely around Jack, who had once more
taken the box into his charge.
“But how can we ever see anything when we ain’t got a light, and don’t
dare start one for fear of being discovered?” remarked doubting George,
who as a rule could far excel Buster in this particular of being
skeptical.
“How about the stars; ain’t they enough to let a feller see just a
little?” asked Josh.
“Jack, what do you say?” came from Herb, willing to let the Commodore
decide the question once and for all.
“First, let’s sit down and try to keep quiet for a little while,”
responded the boy who had been appealed to, “because, unless I miss my
guess, we’re going to have all the light we want to right away now.”
As the others followed his example, and dropped upon the ground,
pressing closely together, so that they could get their heads in a small
circle, and be able to do some more talking, Buster was heard to say,
appealingly:
“Now, just what do you mean by that remark, Jack, I’d like to know?
Where would we get so much light? Anybody got a flash torch along? No,
that’s where we made a big mistake, you see, forgettin’ so important a
thing. Speak up, Jack, and let’s know all about it, please.”
“Even if we did forget,” replied Jack, “we’re going to have the biggest
torch you ever heard tell of, pretty soon; and that’ll give us all the
light we want, take it from me, Buster.”
The fat boy moved a little uneasily.
“Whee! I hope now, Jack, it ain’t anything like the woods on fire you
got in mind,” he asked, with a sudden vein of alarm in his voice; for
Buster had once passed through a very unpleasant experience while in a
blazing forest, and often had bad dreams on that account.
Josh made a scornful sound, which was a favorite habit of his whenever
he wished to convey the idea that he looked on some remark of the stout
boy as indicating an unsound mind.
“And us out here on a measly little old island in the middle of the old
Mississippi, at that?” he observed, caustically, and then wound up with
another “Huh!”
Jack at another time would have been amused to hear these two go at it,
hammer and tongs; but the present was hardly an appropriate time for any
sort of a dispute or even discussion.
“Suppose you fellows take a look around,” he remarked, “and perhaps
after that you won’t need to ask me where I’m going to get my torch.”
After all it was sharp-eyed Andy who made the discovery.
“Arrah! and sure ’tis the moon he manes!” exclaimed the Irish lad.
“The moon,” echoed George, “now wherever do you see any signs of that
same thing, I’d like to know?”
“Would you look at George, starin’ as hard as he can right into the
west?” mocked Josh. “Since when has the moon taken to risin’ across the
river, George? Reckon you’re a little mixed in your directions, ain’t
you? Been bobbing over that engine of yours so much you get off your
base. That’s right, turn your head around, and you’ll see what Jack
means.”
There, somewhere not far from in the east the sky was brightening along
the horizon which they could manage to see beyond the tumbling water of
the river. Without a doubt it was the coming moon, sending a few shreds
of her silvery light in advance to paint the way.
“I c’n see the tip of her face right now, apeekin’ above the line of
trees away over there on the shore,” announced Josh, with a slight vein
of exultation in his partly suppressed voice.
“That’s roight!” agreed Andy.
As they stood there and looked sure enough the edge of the moon began to
slowly creep into sight. At first it seemed just for all the world
like a silver pencil marking a bright eyebrow above the horizon; but
gradually this extended, growing more pronounced all the while, until
even a child could tell that it was the moon making her nightly bow to
the darkened world below.
Not another word was said until every part of her now sadly battered
disc had come into view. The moon was not near so beautiful as on the
third night previous, when full; but there was still a deal of light
shining from that yellow glove hung up there in the heavens like a huge
lantern.
“She’ll do the business all right, Jack--!” ventured Buster, just as
though he had been rather uncertain up to then.
“You just bet she will, bully old moon!” declared George, who was
possibly more inclined to be sentimental than any of the six boys.
“Say when, Jack,” urged Josh; meaning by this that he hoped the other
would not think the time had arrived to rip the cover off the little
box, so that they could all have a peep at its glorious contents, before
it was stowed safely away aboard one of the motor boats.
Jack looked a little doubtingly at the moon, just hanging above the
horizon. “Not near as much light as she’ll be giving when she gets
higher,” he said, softly; “but then, I guess we can’t wait for that. You
fellows would just die with anxiety if you couldn’t see pretty soon.”
But while Jack was saying these caustic words, of course he did not mean
anything. Why, he was just about as keen on wanting to see the contents
of the box as any one of his chums. That was only a boy’s way of
expressing himself.
Had there been no need of caution Jack could have knocked the lid off that
box in short order, by taking the camp hatchet, and making use of it.
The job was not apt to prove quite so easy when he found himself
compelled to simply pry with the sharp edge of the said little axe.
He worked busily for several minutes, while the balance of the boys
hovered over him, making various suggestions, and even wanting to show
Jack how it ought to be done; for of course every fellow considered that
he could accomplish the task better than any one else.
But Jack knew what he was about, and so he declined to hand over his job
to the next one. He had managed by dint of pressure to get the edge of
the blade inserted under what seemed to be the lid of the box, and was
now engaged in prying it up, a little at a time.
“Don’t bother Jack so, you fellows,” warned Herb, who was apparently
quite satisfied with the way things were going. “Leave him alone, and
he’ll fix it all right. He always does, you know. There you c’n see the
lid’s coming right along. Another pry like that, and you’ll have her,
Jack. Eureka! there she rises, boys! He’s done it!”
Jack calmly bent the lid fully back, and then pried it loose, so that it
fell over on the ground. Then he took the little box up in his arms and
turned to get the full light of the low moon.
“Jack first, fellers!” cautioned Josh, “don’t you all crowd the mourners
so. Let him take a peek, and then the rest of us c’n feast our eyes on
all that bully money and stuff. Keep back, Buster, you ain’t the first
in line; that’s George, and me, I’m second choice. Look at the stuff
Jack’s a-pullin’ out, would you? Seems like rags or somethin’ like that,
to me. Reckon they just stuffed the top of the box full to keep the
coin from rattling around like. What’s ailing Jack, fellers? See him
a-starin’ in like he seen a ghost. Gee! but it must be a great sight,
all that boodle from the bank, to make our partner stare like that.
George, get a move on you, and step up. You’re next, you know. No
crowdin’, Buster. Keep your place in line, can’t you?”
Jack was indeed standing there, and staring into the opened box as
though he had received something of a shock; but over his face there
began to creep a semblance of a smile, or a grin, or something of that
character, as he held out the box for George to take his turn next.