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Updated: May 8, 2025
Nothing, that is, except dirt, grass, mullein-stalks, and beetles or crickets under the stones. Mr. Daddles hunted energetically, pulling up grass by the roots, digging in the soil with his fingers, and kicking at stones with the toes of his tennis-shoes, until he shouted "Ouch!" and jumped about holding his foot in his hand.
Daddles, "but we'll pull through, somehow. Perhaps the Captain went treasure-hunting himself, and has got lost in the fog. This has been a busy little day. Now, let's see. I think I remember a woman up the road here, who used to let rooms, or " He broke off, and slapped the back which was nearest him, it was mine. "Well, Great Scott! That echo was right!" "Why? What's the matter?"
New paper! Oh, well, it's two years since I was here." Mr. Daddles wandered around the room for a while, with a puzzled air, but the rest of us were too hungry to pay much attention to him. Ed Mason filled a water-pitcher in the butler's pantry, and Jimmy brought some tumblers from a closet. I opened the jam, and got some plates and knives. Then we all sat down and began to eat.
Consider yerselves under arrest. I apprehend yer in the name of the Commonwealth. Stay right where yer be. I'll go an' get Eb." "No, you won't, either," said Mr. Daddles. He and Sprague darted forward at the same moment. They grabbed the little man, each by an arm, and commenced walking him rapidly toward the boat. "Here, here! Whatcher doin'? Lemme be! Lemme be! This is assault!
"I wonder why he trusts us with his boat." "He knows that no one would be foolish enough to steal it," said Jimmy; "look at it!" It was a shabby and ill-kept dory, dirty, and with half an inch of dirty water washing about in it. But we didn't care. Almost any boat is good enough when you are looking for buried treasure. We set out, with Mr. Daddles and Jimmy rowing.
A pleasing smell of flap-jacks began to come up from below. "There has been more doing in these three days," said Ed Mason, "than usually happens in a month," "But the voyage has been tame and uneventful," said Mr. Daddles, "compared with one my uncle made in these very parts, three years ago." "What happened to him?"
"I know," said Jimmy Toppan, "he's going to hurry off and put it in the bank, before Ike Flanders tries to get it away from him." "No," said Mr. Daddles, "he's going to bury it in his garden." "First," remarked Ed Mason, "he'll take it into the house and test it with acid, to see if it's genuine." "He thinks we're a gang of bunco men," Mr. Daddles reflected.
Then it stopped for a second or two, and then there was another long stroke, with "yop, yop" on the end. "Do you s'pose it's another cow?" whispered Jimmy. Mr. Daddles shook his head, and held up his hand again for silence. The noise continued with perfect regularity for half a minute, then it stopped altogether. "It's in the wall," I suggested, pointing. "P'r'aps it's a mouse gnawing."
"Shuck 'em," the Captain replied. Mr. Daddles still looked puzzled. "Take 'em out of the shells," explained Jimmy. While the Captain worked over the clams, he had an oil-stove lighted down in the cabin, and he tried out some pork. Ed Mason hunted up a pail of fresh milk and some crackers, while I washed and peeled the potatoes. In about half an hour the dinner was ready.
Moreover, since Sprague and Pete decided to take their boat to Big Duck Island, the trip to Rogers's must be made by land. "It will be safer for just one of us to go to Rogers's Island," said Mr. Daddles, "and he can look around after the Captain and the 'Hoppergrass. If he finds them, they can all sail over to Big Duck Island tonight or to-morrow morning and join us there.
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