CHAPTER VIII
MATT BURTON'S TREASURE FIND
When they heard the remarkable news that Matt Burton had discovered thetreasure the curiosity of the two boys was beyond measure. They werepushing their way eagerly toward the group to get the full news when arunning noose dropped from the overhanging limb of a great tree andneatly entwined them. Their progress was checked.
"That's Chick-chick," said Apple, without looking up. "He's alwaysplaying some kind of a trick. Let go your hold of that rope,Chick-chick."
The joker dropped down from the branch almost on top of them.
"I was just fixing a swing when ye came 'long," he explained, in hisjerky fashion. "Too good a chance to miss, it was, and worked fine, itdid. Don't be in a hurry."
"You loosen this rope and let us go. We want to get the news."
"'Tain't s' important as you think. Gives the Great an' Only Matty achance t' spread himself. Come on to dinner; you'll hear all 'bout it."
Dinner was indeed ready and the boys were filling up the long table, forMr. Newton had decreed that no action should be taken on Matt'sdiscovery until after dinner.
When all was cleared away and the boys were ready to dismiss he made theannouncement: "Burton will now tell us of his discovery; the site heselected, how he has worked and what he has found."
"Rah for the Great and Only," yelled Chick-chick, and, the designatedtitle being popularly known and approved, the "rah" was given beforeMatt began to speak.
There was no embarrassment about Matt Burton as he rose to speak. He wasabout fifteen years old, tall, straight and handsome. A mass of darkbrown hair with well-set eyes of the same shade and regular featuresgave vigor to his head and face. He was of good family and had beenreared in a home of refinement and taught to feel at ease under allcircumstances. He accepted his nickname of "The Great and Only Matty"with some complacency, as being not inappropriate, especially since hispitching was the star feature of their baseball playing. A wise fatherhad sent him to the scouts to "get acquainted with himself" but so farthe process had not reached perfection. He began to talk with a smile ofconfidence.
"I know a lot about buried treasure from what I've read and heard tellof," said he, "so I decided to work out my own plans. Chick-chick andGoosey offered to come with me, but I had ideas of my own. I knew a fewthings about how to look. I knew it was no good to look on top of theground--might as well look up in trees. Then I knew there's always afalse scent thrown out to put searchers off the track. I figured thatthe false scent was probably the story of the lake. So instead ofchoosing any place in the Hollow I looked around until I found a heap ofrock near the timber. And then I chose one hundred feet from the timberline southeast of the Hollow. I knew that the heap of rock wouldn't bethe only sign--there's always a second sign given in a treasure hunt.Usually, in all the books I've read, the second sign is a tree or sometall object which casts a shadow at a certain hour of the day at justthe point where you ought to dig."
"What hour?" shouted a boy.
"I'm coming to that. I looked around for the rock heap and decided topace off a hundred feet. I got no results worth while until I tried itdue south. This time it brought me to an old stump of a very peculiarappearance that might have been there a hundred years. It was about tenfeet high, and of course the length of its shadow was different atdifferent times of the day. The only guide I had was in the heap ofrock. There were four rocks in it. As there is no sun at four o'clock inthe morning it was a sure thing that I must choose four in theafternoon. So I waited until four o'clock and at the exact spot wherethe peculiar knobby head of that stump threw its shadow I commenced todig."
The boys were listening in strained silence. One of the younger onessqueaked "Rah for Matty!" but drew no response.
"I dug until supper time," continued Matt. "It was hard work, but I madea pretty good hole though I found nothing. Nobody had been around tobother me. I just stuck up a couple of sticks at supper time and camein. This morning I was late getting to work. Digging alone so hardyesterday had taken off some of my appetite, and I didn't dream of whatI was going to find so I didn't hurry much. But I found the groundturned up easier and I had hardly dug twenty minutes before my spadestruck something that gave out a metallic ring. I scraped away the dirtuntil I could see a metal object like the lid of a box about fourteen byeighteen inches. The ground all around it was hard and I could not getit loose. I tried to get my fingers under it but couldn't do it. Thedinner call was sounded. I wouldn't have come only I was obliged to havesome help anyway, and I thought I'd better tell the scout master allabout it and have him see fair play."
"Which the scout master will proceed to do," added Mr. Newton. "We willfollow Matt to the scene of his explorations which we hope will turn outto be the treasure, although one box fourteen by eighteen inches wouldnot hold a great deal of bullion. Still there may be other boxes. Whowere the boys who wanted to work with you, Matt?"
"Chick-chick and Goosey," replied Matt.
"Very well. You two boys may take a pick and a spade and help Matt gethis box out."
The boys did not respond willingly.
"We don't want to," said Chick-chick. "He didn't want us yesterday andhe won't want us to-day. Let Brick Mason and Apple do it."
"I don't like that spirit, Henry, but we'll excuse you. Corliss and Glenwill do the work."
"You don't seem very much excited over this find," said Glen to Spencer,as he pushed him along in his billy-cart.
"I'd be more excited if they found a gushing spring, my boy. I don'texcite easily over buried gold."
"Well, we'll soon see. If I get hold of that pick I'll soon have thatbox loose."
Matt Burton did not really relish Glen's aid, but he could offer novalid objection. A few rapid and accurate strokes with the pick loosenedthe hard earth, and Apple and Matt quickly spaded it out. As soon as agrip could be obtained Matt seized the box. It certainly was heavy,especially since he could not yet get a good grip on it. Apple liftedone side and slowly but with great excitement they brought themysterious box from its hiding place.
A look of disgust swept the features of Matt Burton as he looked at histreasure and read the white letters on the side of the box.
From the edge of the pit came a roar of laughter from Black Bob, thecook, who had been eagerly watching the proceedings.
"Ah ben missin' that yere bread box since yis'day two days gone," heshouted. "Dat ah is mah treasure. Bring her up yere!"
Glen, on his knees, had thrown open the lid of the box. As he saw itscontents to be damp earth, tightly tamped, his roar of laughter equaledthat of Black Bob.
"Wow!" he shouted. "Look at this. The treasure's name is Mud!"
Matt's look of disgust had changed to fiery anger.
"You're the one who put this trick up on me," he shouted. "You've beenrubbing me wrong ever since we let you in here from nowhere. Now I'mgoing to pay you up!"
He made a wild lunge forward at Glen, and in a second the two werelocked in a rough and tumble conflict in the narrow confines of the pit.But the scout master reached down from above and seized each by thecollar, and Apple valiantly pushed himself in between their belligerentforms.
"Enough of that, boys," said Mr. Newton. "Climb out of that hole. Glen,what have you to say to this charge."
But Glen was spared from making an answer, for Henry Henry stood forthand spoke.
"He didn't do it, Mr. Newton. It was me," confessed Chick-chick, moreconvincing than grammatical. "Goosey was in it with me. When Matt turnedus down yesterday we thought we'd give him something to dig for. Neverdreamed he'd make big blow 'bout it. Just s'posed be little joke all t'himself. We came last night, dug down to hard pan; cut hole s' nearexact size o' bread box as we could, made it heavy with dirt and turnedit in upside down. Just joke, Mr. Newton."
And as "just a joke" it did not seem so very reprehensible, for a goodjoke that does no harm is not out of place in a scout camp. Mr. Newtonhad a private conversation with Henry Henry about his
joke, butChick-chick never told the boys what he said. The scout master also hada private conversation with Matt Burton and this also was kept a secret,but though it may have done Matt good it did not improve his attitudetoward "Brick" Mason.
In most things Glen found the succeeding days marked by such happinessas he had never before enjoyed. He was a boy among boys. No one askedabout his past. Scouts are taught to live in the present. It is not whatthey have been, but what they are and are aiming to be that carriesweight. He found his word accepted as truth and so he made strongefforts to make it true. He did not spend his days in perfect harmony.The old disposition to have everything his own way still existed andmany an angry word flared up and many times he was near the fightingline, but this had been so much a part of his every day living for somany years that it troubled him but little. Even with Matt Burton he hadnot come to blows, though Matt continued to assign to him disagreeabletasks, so markedly indeed, that Mr. Newton announced that he would makeall assignments himself, henceforth. The treasure hunt proceeded withmore or less zest but neither real nor fancied treasure was discovered.Nevertheless it supplied a new interest each day, and Glenenthusiastically did his share in keeping the interest alive. Every partof every day was in vivid contrast to the dull monotonous life he hadbeen living. And yet he was not satisfied, there remained an eagerlonging for something, he knew not what; a great unsatisfied craving.
Glen was always a sound sleeper. He dreamed of the camp one night. Thetussle with Matt Burton had really come, at last. He seemed to do verywell at first but Matt had seized a pickax (the very one used inunearthing the bread box) and was beating him about the head with it.Fortunately he awoke before he was badly damaged. Spencer was reachingover from his cot and tapping his face with his cane.
"Get up, Brick! Get up! Brick is a good name for you, my hard-bakedfriend. Get up! This tent will be in the next county in five minutes.Get up! You would sleep on, and come to no harm if we were carriedtwenty miles, but being slightly crippled, I'd be sure to struggle andget hurt. Get up!"
The wind was blowing furiously and the tent almost capsized. Glen wasout of bed in a flash, wide awake. He knew where to get a heavy hammerand made short work of driving home the stakes and securing the flappingcanvas.
"Not very clever of you to plant your tent stakes so the first strongwind would blow them out of the ground," said Spencer.
"The wind didn't blow them out, and the strain of the ropes didn't pullthem out. I fixed those stakes just before I went to bed. Who do yousuppose yanked them up?"
"I never was good at riddles," replied Spencer. "Maybe it was Mr.Newton."
"Yes," said Glen, "or Apple! Just like 'em. Try another guess."
"No, I'm afraid I would say something that might excite you. Go tosleep. Every one has troubles, but it's no good weeping about 'em.'Laugh and the world laughs with you.'"
"I haven't any troubles and I can afford to laugh," said Glen. "Theday's beginning to break but I think I'll take a Sunday morning snooze."
And over in the county into which Will Spencer had predicted they wouldbe blown a man was just awaking from his snooze. He had slept all nightin an automobile, as he frequently did. The automobile was no ordinarycar. It had a driver's seat in front and a closed car behind. Brightcolored letters announced to the world that J. Jervice supplied thepublic with a full line of novelties, including rugs, curtains, rarelaces and Jervice's Live Stock Condition Powders.
Mr. J. Jervice yawned and stretched, and rubbed his eyes.
"I think I'll get on to Buffalo Center to-day," he soliloquized. "Theboss didn't say to come until to-morrow an' the rest o' the gang won'tbe there until night, anyway. That'll give me a chance to do a nicelittle business at that Boy Scout Camp I hear they've got there. It'sSunday but I reckon I can sell a few things. Ought to get rid of someflags and knives and a little tinware."
It was nice that Glen could feel that he had no troubles, but perhaps hedid not know of the intentions of Mr. Jervice.
The Boy Scout Treasure Hunters; Or, The Lost Treasure of Buffalo Hollow Page 8
