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An' folks are all stirred up about this burglin' business." He looked at us doubtfully, and shook his head again. The other man he was the tall, silent one, who had led me along the road- opened the last cell on the right and told Ed Mason and me to go in. Mr. Daddles and Jimmy were put in a cell across the corridor. The tall man vanished upstairs, leaving us all locked in.
"Not exactly," said Marjorie, cuddling in Cousin Ethel's arms, but King protested: "No, indeed!" he declared. "I wasn't scared, but I felt a little queer." "You're two Ducky Daddles!" Cousin Ethel cried, and Cousin Jack slapped King on the shoulder and said, "You're a trump, old man!" and King felt very grown-up and manly. "What's it all about?" he inquired, and Mr.
"Quite so," said Sprague, "only we couldn't find a beaker on board, and wouldn't have known one if we HAD found it." Pete and the silent Chief prepared to row Gregory ashore. Just before they left Sprague gave the prisoner some money for steamboat fare, and Mr. Daddles presented him with the remains of the apple pie, begging him to keep some of it for breakfast next day.
Then he set to again, so excitedly that we looked at him in astonishment. "P'r'aps we'd better start," said Jimmy again. "In a minute, in a minute," exclaimed Mr. Daddles, poking about. "Hunt, boys, hunt, I feel sure we'll find something if we only hunt." We hunted, scraped over the earth and sand around that tree, and moved every stone and pebble.
Then we started on an exploring trip around the island. It was almost bare of trees, rocky in many places, and partly covered with scrubby grass. We found half a dozen pits and shafts where the treasure-seekers had been at work. We climbed the little hill where the tree stood, it was gnarled and broken, "a blasted tree" declared Mr. Daddles in rapture.
Daddles, "I'll know what to tell 'em." The fog shut down thick before we got to the Cove, but we were already so near that it didn't make much difference. We left the boat at the slip where we had first seen it. The horse-car was standing at the house, but we did not look for the driver. Instead, we set out on our tramp back to Little Duck Island. That was a dismal and tiresome walk.
Then I'll get the keys to your cells, never shall it be said of Despard D'Auvigny that he deserted his friends in misfortune! A regular jail-delivery, what? The destruction of the Bastille was nothing to this! And we'll carry Eb's head on a pike." "What!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I never thought of that! Do you suppose the keys to our cells are upstairs?
"There's an apple pie down there," remarked Sprague, as he helped himself to another cup of coffee. Mr. Daddles hurried below, and soon came up with the pie. "I hope some of you will," said he, "you do, in this region, don't you?" "In obscure parts of the ulterior," said Pete, "I have heard that the habit lingers of eating pie for breakfast. It's merely a tradition in my family, I regret to say."
"Then you're in no state to sail the boat," replied Pete, "here, get away from the wheel!" He pushed the indignant Chief away, and taking the wheel himself, began to put the boat about. "Who's Simon?" asked Mr. Daddles. Nobody paid any attention to his question. "To think of forgetting him!" exclaimed Pete, "can you see anything of him, Warren?"
Daddles called "black- hearted Gregory the Gauger." "You ought to be ashamed of yerself," said he, "leadin' boys into crime!" "Do you mean me?" asked Mr. Daddles. "Yas I mean you, in the white pants," he replied, looking with great scorn at Mr. Daddles's duck trousers, "I've heard how you perfessional crooks git boys to climb up on water spouts an' let yer in.
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