Maybe you’ll say we were all crazy, but _I_ should worry. Anyway, I’m
going to tell you everything, just the way it happened.
While the rest of us were starting our camp-fire, Harry was digging up
spades full of earth as close to the trunk of the tree as he could get
the spade. Each time he would spread the earth out on the spade and
examine it very carefully by the light of the fire.
“You’re a swell lot of treasure hunters,” he said; “leaving all the work
to me.”
“Wait till we get the fire burning up and we’ll give you a hand,” Brent
said.
“That’s the best kind of gold,” little Bill spoke up; “that yellow
flame.”
“It turns everything to gold all of a sudden,” even Pee-wee said; “look
at the trunk of the tree.”
“Some bunch of treasure hunters!” Harry said. “Pee-wee, I’m surprised at
_you_. Where are your pan and your rolling-pin and your burlap bags? I
thought you were Captain Kidd, Junior.”
“It’s time enough in the morning, isn’t it?” the kid said. “Then we’ll
get to work in earnest. We have to get our fire started, don’t we?”
“Oh, sure,” Harry said.
“We belong to the Union,” Brent said, “and we don’t shovel dirt after
three in the afternoon. We believe in the two hour day. Don’t bother
us.”
Pretty soon the fire was burning up, and it made the tree all
bright—kind of flickery, like. We could look away into the dark
woods—they were awful black. But right near us it was bright, just like
gold. There was an owl hooting some-where—maybe he was up in that tree.
We all sat down around the fire to rest a minute. Harry pulled a log
over close to the big trunk of the tree and out of the heat of the fire
and sat down on it, and leaned back against the trunk. He said, “I guess
I’ll have my bench under the Dahadinee poplar. Look here, you fellows.”
He held out his hand and in the middle of the palm was just a little
yellow dust.
[Illustration: IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS PALM WAS A LITTLE YELLOW DUST.]
“_It’s gold!_” Pee-wee shouted.
Brent said, “Yellow gold, by gum!”
We all just stood around him, looking at it; gee whiz, I just couldn’t
take my eyes off it.
“There’s a clincher for you,” Harry said; “the treasure is here all
right. All we have to use is some elbow grease to get it. You see we’ll
have to chop her down first, because if we go to undermining her, she
may fall. Then all we’ll have to do is to dig around among the upper
roots, and keep our eyes open, and scrape up the dust. We won’t get
anywhere near as much as was here, but we’ll get enough to buy some
wireless outfits and bicycles and things,—or I’m mistaken. Of course,
the bags must have rotted away years ago. Put some wood on the fire,
Grove.”
“It shows how much those seeds wanted to live to push right up through
those bags,” Pee-wee said.
Harry said, “I declare! Listen to Pirate Harris!”
“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” Pee-wee said. It was awful funny.
“Oh, sure, they wanted to live all right,” Harry said; “a lot they cared
about gold. A scout is a friend to gold——”
“He’s a friend to everything that lives,” little Alf spoke up.
Brent Gaylong went over and put some wood on the fire and the blaze
jumped up, and everything around there was all flickered up and bright.
Then he lay down on his back and put one knee up over the other and
looked up into the sky. That’s always the way he does when he’s around
camp-fire.
After about a minute he said, “Scouts, I have an idea. This trip is a
failure—it’s commonplace. We’ve been trying to get some originality and
pep into our travels and we haven’t succeeded. We planned an escape from
jail and it fell through. We weren’t even sent to jail; I’m ashamed to
admit it, but it’s the truth. You fellows were on the point of being
sent to jail and then, just when everything was going nicely and you
seemed likely to have an adventure, along came some old judge and put
one over on you—gave you a check for five hundred bucks. It’s
discouraging.”
Harry said, “I know it,”—awful funny.
Then Brent said, “Every story I ever read about going after buried
treasure, the men who went after it found it. I was in hopes our little
story might have a different ending—just for the sake or originality.
But nothing doing; it seems we’re going to go home loaded down with
gold.”
“I know it,” Harry said; “I’m sorry. I kind of like this bench under the
Dahadinee poplar; it makes me think of old Thor or whatever his name
was, and Ann.”
For about a minute nobody said anything; we just sprawled around
watching the fire. The big tree stood there, you know, kind of dignified
and solemn like.
“What time shall we start chopping and digging?” Brent asked.
But nobody said anything. Then, good night, Pee-wee Harris, Captain
Kidd, Jr., spoke up.
“What’s the good of gold, anyway?” he said. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t
we?”
“How about the rolling-pin and the burlap bags and the pickaxe and the
shovels?” Harry said.
“We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?” Pee-wee shouted at him. “Alf is
right.”
“Right?” Harry said.
“Yes, _right_; that’s what I said,” the kid yelled: “a scout cares about
everything that lives. If you were a scout, you’d know that.”
“I?” Harry said.
“Yes, you,” Pee-wee shouted; “I’m not going to help chop down this big
tree just to get some gold dust. If you think we’re a gold dust troop,
you’re mistaken! We’re _scouts_, that’s what we are!”
“Goodness me,” Harry said; “you seem to be on the side of the girls now.
You and Ann and Grace Bronson——”
“Girls are all right,” Pee-wee shouted; “I know all about girls; I know
more about them than you do!”
“I don’t claim to know anything about them,” Harry said; “and I don’t
claim to know anything about the scouts, either. I think they’re all
crazy.”
“I don’t mind being called crazy,” Grove said.
Harry said, “So, you’re with him, hey?”
“Yes, and I’m with him, too,” I said.
“So am I,” Skinny shouted.
“If it rained this tree would keep us dry,” one of Brent’s patrol spoke
up.
“I like trees best,” little Willie Wide-Awake piped up.
“It seems there’s a mutiny,” Harry said.
Brent said, “That was more than I dared to hope for. I’ve always longed
to be mixed up in a mutiny. I’ll be the leader of this one.”
“Well,” Harry said, “all I know is, that we formed this party to come up
here after buried treasure, and that we came equipped with rolling-pins
and saucepans and pickaxes, and now it seems we’re talking about trees.
You’re a queer lot, you scouts.”
I said, “Yes, and you feel just the same as we do, too. You try to make
me think you don’t agree with Grace Bronson.”
Harry and Brent just looked at each other and laughed.
Then Harry said, “Well, girls and scouts, they’re a mystery to me. I’m
here for business, but, of course, if there’s a mutiny——”
“Let’s take a vote,” Grove said.
“All right,” Pee-wee shouted; “I vote to leave this tree where it is. We
had plenty of fun.”
“I vote to have some eats,” I said.
“Second the motion,” one of Brent’s scouts spoke up. Believe me, a scout
is a friend of eats.
“You won’t get me to help chop it down,” Grove said.
“I’ll stick up for you,” Willie Wide-Awake sang out.
“I seem to have a large minority,” Harry said; “how about you, Brent?”
Brent said, “Oh, I vote for the original ending. I’m a friend to
everything that’s different. I say, let’s not find the treasure—let’s
beat the story books at their own game. If Roy ever writes up all this
nonsense, why the readers will think that we’re all going to end up
millionaires.”
“They’ll get left,” Pee-wee said; “we’re just plain scouts. It—it came
to a showdown.”
Harry said, “Well, it seems as if the old Dahadinee poplar wins. I think
I’ll leave this bench right here underneath it, in memory of Thor and
Ann.”
“And Grace Bronson,” I said.
“Put some more sticks on the fire, Roy, and we’ll take a full vote,”
Harry said, all the while smiling. I always kid him about Grace Bronson
whenever I get a chance.
“Think she’ll be satisfied?” Harry said.
Just as I was putting some more sticks on the fire I happened to look up
where the trunk of the big tree was all kind of gold color, on account
of the camp-fire blaze. That’s the kind of gold that scouts like best.
And right there in the light, about half way down the trunk was that
squirrel, standing upside-down, and cocking his head sideways at Harry
Donnelle, just as if he were waiting to find out how we decided.
THE END
_This Isn't All!_
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have
made in this book? Would you like to read other stories
continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books
quite as entertaining by the same author?
On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book,
you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at
the same store where you got this book.
_Don’t throw away the Wrapper_
_Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to
have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for
a complete catalog_.
THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS
By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH
Author of “Tom Slade,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc.
Illustrated. Picture Wrappers in Color.
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
In the character and adventures of Roy Blakeley are typified the very
essence of Boy life. He is a real boy, as real as Huck Finn and Tom
Sawyer. He is the moving spirit of the troop of Scouts of which he is a
member, and the average boy has to go only a little way in the first
book before Roy is the best friend he ever had, and he is willing to
part with his best treasure to get the next book in the series.
ROY BLAKELEY
ROY BLAKELEY’S ADVENTURES IN CAMP
ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER
ROY BLAKELEY’S CAMP ON WHEELS
ROY BLAKELEY’S SILVER FOX PATROL
ROY BLAKELEY’S MOTOR CARAVAN
ROY BLAKELEY LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN
ROY BLAKELEY’S BEE-LINE HIKE
ROY BLAKELEY AT THE HAUNTED CAMP
ROY BLAKELEY’S FUNNY BONE HIKE
ROY BLAKELEY’S TANGLED TRAIL
ROY BLAKELEY ON THE MOHAWK TRAIL
ROY BLAKELEY’S ELASTIC HIKE
ROY BLAKELEY’S ROUNDABOUT HIKE
ROY BLAKELEY’S HAPPY-GO-LUCKY HIKE
ROY BLAKELEY’S GO-AS-YOU PLEASE HIKE
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS
By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH
Author of “Tom Slade,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc.
Illustrated. Picture Wrappers in Color.
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
All readers of the Tom Slade and the Roy Blakeley books are acquainted
with Pee-wee Harris, These stories record the true facts concerning his
size (what there is of it) and his heroism (such as it is), his voice,
his clothes, his appetite, his friends, his enemies, his victims.
Together with the thrilling narrative of how he foiled, baffled,
circumvented and triumphed over everything and everybody (except where
he failed) and how even when he failed he succeeded. The whole recorded
in a series of screams and told with neither muffler nor cut-out.
PEE-WEE HARRIS
PEE-WEE HARRIS ON THE TRAIL
PEE-WEE HARRIS IN CAMP
PEE-WEE HARRIS IN LUCK
PEE-WEE HARRIS ADRIFT
PEE-WEE HARRIS F. O. B. BRIDGEBORO
PEE-WEE HARRIS FIXER
PEE-WEE HARRIS: AS GOOD AS HIS WORD
PEE-WEE HARRIS: MAYOR FOR A DAY
PEE-WEE HARRIS AND THE SUNKEN TREASURE
PEE-WEE HARRIS ON THE BRINY DEEP
PEE-WEE HARRIS IN DARKEST AFRICA
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
THE TOM SLADE BOOKS
By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH
Author of “Tom Slade,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc.
Illustrated. Picture Wrappers in Color.
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
“Let your boy grow up with Tom Slade,” is a suggestion which thousands
of parents have followed during the past, with the result that the TOM
SLADE BOOKS are the most popular boys’ books published today. They take
Tom Slade through a series of typical boy adventures through his
tenderfoot days as a scout, through his gallant days as an American
doughboy in France, back to his old patrol and the old camp ground at
Black Lake, and so on.
TOM SLADE, BOY SCOUT
TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP
TOM SLADE ON THE RIVER
TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS
TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT
TOM SLADE WITH THE BOYS OVER THERE
TOM SLADE MOTORCYCLE DISPATCH BEARER
TOM SLADE WITH THE FLYING CORPS
TOM SLADE AT BLACK LAKE
TOM SLADE ON MYSTERY TRAIL
TOM SLADE’S DOUBLE DARE
TOM SLADE ON OVERLOOK MOUNTAIN
TOM SLADE PICKS A WINNER
TOM SLADE AT BEAR MOUNTAIN
TOM SLADE: FOREST RANGER
TOM SLADE IN THE NORTH WOODS
TOM SLADE AT SHADOW ISLE
TOM SLADE IN THE HAUNTED CAVERN
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
GARRY GRAYSON FOOTBALL STORIES
By ELMER A. DAWSON
Individual Colored Wrappers
Illustrations by WALTER S. ROGERS
Each Volume Complete in Itself.
Football followers all over the country will hail with delight this new
and thoroughly up-to-date line of gridiron tales.
Garry Grayson is a football fan, first, last, and all the time. But more
than that, he is a wideawake American boy with a “gang” of chums almost
as wideawake as himself.
How Garry organized the first football eleven his grammar school had,
how he later played on the High School team, and what he did on the Prep
School gridiron and elsewhere, is told in a manner to please all readers
and especially those interested in watching a rapid forward pass, a
plucky tackle, or a hot run for a touchdown.
Good, clean football at its best—and in addition, rattling stories of
mystery and schoolboy rivalries.
GARRY GRAYSON’S HILL STREET ELEVEN; or, The Football Boys of
Lenox.
GARRY GRAYSON AT LENOX HIGH; or, The Champions of the Football
League.
GARRY GRAYSON’S FOOTBALL RIVALS; or, The Secret of the Stolen
Signals.
GARRY GRAYSON SHOWING HIS SPEED; or, A Daring Run on the
Gridiron.
GARRY GRAYSON AT STANLEY PREP; or, The Football Rivals of
Riverview.
GARRY GRAYSON’S WINNING KICK; or, Battling for Honor.
GARRY GRAYSON HITTING THE LINE; or, Stanley Prep on a New
Gridiron.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
THE WESTY MARTIN BOOKS
By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH
Author of the “Tom Slade” and “Roy Blakeley” Books, Etc.
Illustrated. Picture Wrappers in Color.
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Westy Martin, known to every friend of Roy Blakeley, appears as the hero
of adventures quite different from those in which we have seen him
participate as a Scout of Bridgeboro and of Temple Camp. On his way to
the Yellowstone the bigness of the vast West and the thoughts of the
wild preserve that he is going to-visit make him conscious of his own
smallness and of the futility of “boy scouting” and woods lore in this
great region. Yet he was to learn that if it had not been for his scout
training he would never have been able to survive the experiences he had
in these stories.
WESTY MARTIN
WESTY MARTIN IN THE YELLOWSTONE
WESTY MARTIN IN THE ROCKIES
WESTY MARTIN ON THE SANTA FE TRAIL
WESTY MARTIN ON THE OLD INDIAN TRAILS
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
Football and Baseball Stories
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
The Ralph Henry Barbour Books For Boys
In these up-to the minute, spirited genuine stories of boy life there is
something which will appeal to every boy with the love of manliness,
cleanness and sportsmanship in his heart.
LEFT END EDWARDS
LEFT TACKLE THAYER
LEFT GUARD GILBERT
CENTER RUSH ROWLAND
FULLBACK FOSTER
LEFT HALF HARMON
RIGHT END EMERSON
RIGHT GUARD GRANT
QUARTERBACK BATES
RIGHT TACKLE TODD
RIGHT HALF HOLLINS
The Tod Hale Series
TOD HALE IN CAMP
TOD HALE WITH THE CREW
TOD HALE ON THE SCRUB
The Christy Mathewson Books For Boys
Every boy wants to know how to play ball in the fairest and squarest
way. These books about boys and baseball are full of wholesome and manly
interest and information.
PITCHER POLLOCK
CATCHER CRAIG
FIRST BASE FAULKNER
SECOND BASE SLOAN
PITCHING IN A PINCH
THIRD BASE THATCHER, By Everett Scott.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
Jerry Todd and Poppy Ott Series
By LEO EDWARDS
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers.
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Hundreds of thousands of boys who laughed until their sides ached over
the weird and wonderful adventures of Jerry Todd and his gang demanded
that Leo Edwards, the author, give them more books like the Jerry Todd
stories with their belt-bursting laughs and creepy shivers. So he took
Poppy Ott, Jerry Todd’s bosom chum and created the Poppy Ott Series, and
if such a thing could be possible—they are even more full of fun and
excitement than the Jerry Todds.
THE POPPY OTT SERIES
POPPY OTT AND THE STUTTERING PARROT
POPPY OTT AND THE SEVEN LEAGUE STILTS
POPPY OTT AND THE GALLOPING SNAIL
POPPY OTT’S PEDIGREED PICKLES
POPPY OTT’S FRECKLED GOLDFISH
POPPY OTT AND THE TITTERING TOTEM
THE JERRY TODD BOOKS
JERRY TODD AND THE WHISPERING MUMMY
JERRY TODD AND THE ROSE-COLORED CAT
JERRY TODD AND THE OAK ISLAND TREASURE
JERRY TODD AND THE WALTZING HEN
JERRY TODD AND THE TALKING FROG
JERRY TODD AND THE PURRING EGG
JERRY TODD IN THE WHISPERING CAVE
JERRY TODD IN THE PIRATE
JERRY TODD AND THE BOB-TAILED ELEPHANT
ANDY BLAKE SERIES
ANDY BLAKE
ANDY BLAKE’S COMET COASTER
ANDY BLAKE’S SECRET SERVICE
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK