It is summer again. The six are enjoying themselves as usual, but are playing no tricks worthy of mention. Considering all things, it is surprising that they have kept out of mischief so long.

But the Sage was revolving a certain matter in his mind. He had been reading about Capt. Kidd the pirate, and the treasures he is said to have buried. He did not believe there were any such treasures,—at least, he thought he did not,—and to show how erroneous all those old traditions are, he resolved to make what he called an experiment.

“Look here, boys,” he said to his school-fellows, “wouldn’t it be capital to look for gold some day; some of Capt. Kidd’s gold, you know!”

“No, George, I guess we don’t know much about it; so go ahead and tell us,” Stephen replied.

“You’ve heard the stories about his buried treasures, of course. Well, let us follow the directions, and look for a stray treasure some night.”

“What directions?” Stephen asked. That day he seemed to be in a humor to persecute somebody.

“Why, the directions given in fortune-telling books for finding buried treasures,” George said good-humoredly. “I have a good necromancer’s book, and I have studied this thing all out. So, suppose we go to work and try it, just to prove how nonsensical all such stories are, and what a humbug necromancy is. Boys, it would be sport.”

“The very thing!” Charles exclaimed. “Now, tell us all about it.”

“Well, I’m glad some one can understand my meaning,” the Sage said smilingly. “We must go along the banks of some river at night, when the moon rises just as the[213] sun sets. When the moon throws the person’s shadow four feet up into an evergreen, any evergreen tree, stop and say over some enchantment. Then shoot an arrow straight up into the air, and it will strike the water—at least it ought to strike it. Shoot another, and it ought to fall at your feet. Shoot one more, and it will light on the ground exactly over your treasure. But you must dig for it with paddles.”

“Paddles!” cried the boys.

“Yes, dig two feet with paddles, or the treasure will escape. Then you may take spades, or anything you choose, to dig with; and six feet down you’ll find it.”

“How wonderful!” Marmaduke exclaimed languidly.

“How foolish, you mean,” wise Will observed. “Really, George, I used to think you had more common sense. Who cares about paddles, and arrow’s, and necromancers, and moons, and shadow’s, and rivers, and—and—now, George, you know such tomfoolery isn’t worth listening to.”

“Of course I don’t believe it,” George replied earnestly; “I only want to expose it.”

Charles and Stephen had been whispering together and exchanging winks while the others were speaking, and the former now said, with feigned seriousness: “Certainly you don’t, George. It’s a likely story that a boy like you believes in a bald-headed, goggle-eyed, broken-nosed necromancer, that never washes his hands, nor blows his broken nose, nor combs his whiskers, nor cuts his toenails. No, George, you read too much science to believe in such a dilapidated ruin as a necromancer must be; but, as you say, it would be roaring fun to follow his directions. How right and praiseworthy to expose the superstitions of the wicked old necromancer! Boys, let us go, by all means!”

George looked at the speaker rather suspiciously; but seeing how grave and earnest he appeared, never guessed that he was laughing inwardly. He replied warmly, “You’re a true friend, Charley. You understand my motives, and see what little faith I put in the old necromancer. Now, boys, you must give in that we could get[214] a great deal of amusement out of this. Honestly, couldn’t we?”

“It’ll be the best fun we’ve had yet!” Steve declared. “But doesn’t he give any more directions, George?”

“Oh, yes. There is a page of what you’re to do and say, and if we should conclude to make the experiment I’ll learn it, for you mustn’t take the book along with you.”

“Of course not,” Charles said promptly. “Well, you’ll go, won’t you, Will?”

“Wouldn’t miss going for anything!” Will replied with decision.

Without stopping to wonder at the sudden change in Will’s and Steve’s opinions, the sage continued, “According to the almanac, this is the very night for us to go, because the moon rises as the sun sets.”

“Exactly;” commented Stephen. “And the river is our river, of course. As for the evergreen, I know where there is a fine tall one near the river. We must start just at the right time to have the shadow according to the rule when we arrive at the evergreen. Now, boys, I’ll scare up a good bow and half a dozen arrows; and Charley, I’m sure, can bring a long-handled spade; and Will can supply us with an oar or two. If the book says anything else is needed, George, you must see to it, for you, of course, will be our leader.”

George gracefully acknowledged this tribute to his merit.

Jim now spoke for the first time. “But what has all this to do with Captain Kidd?” he asked.

Ever since Will’s experience in the cave he had been filled with lofty ideas, and now, in his wisdom, he thought this the first weighty remark that had been made.

George replied thus: “We don’t know of any other man that would be foolish enough to bury treasures, Jim, so let us suppose that we are looking for one of Kidd’s.—All in sport, of course.”

Will looked at the Sage with pity that was not akin to love, and observed, “Now, George, I haven’t been reading the history of Captain Kidd, as you have, but I know well[215] enough that he never buried any money in these parts because it stands to reason he was never here! Perhaps he buried some along the sea-coast, but certainly none in this far-off wilderness—as it was then.”

This argument was irrefutable; the Sage was mute. With all his reading, all his knowledge, was he to be insulted thus?

In fact, he looked so woe-begone that Charles came to his relief, saying, “Never mind Mr. Kidd, boys; let us follow the necromancers orders blindly.”

All agreed to do this, and soon afterwards they separated.

All unknown to them, they had had a listener. The conversation had taken place in the school-grounds, and a great over-grown boy had seen them, and drawn near enough to hear every word. As a wood-pile was between him and the heroes, he escaped notice. This “great, hulking lubber,” as Charles called him, was the boy who had been bitten by Stephen’s dog several months before, and who, as was intimated, thirsted for revenge. Ever since that time he had dogged the six, in the vain hope of detecting them in some evil scheme.

He was a cowardly, treacherous boy, this Bob Herriman, or he would not have played the eaves-dropper on this occasion. He now resolved to precede the boys, hide himself in the evergreen, and do his best to torment them.

Most horrible revenge, truly!

“I’ll get there ahead of ’em,” he muttered, “and climb the tree Stepping Hen (the opprobrious nickname by which, in his anger, he privately knew Stephen) spoke of! I think I know the very tree. I’ll yell, perhaps, or scare ’em awful in some way, and if they do any harm to anything, I’ll tell on ’em! Oh! what fun!”

Then this embryo villain strutted away, with a mischievous look—a look that boded ill to the Sage’s experiment. He was an immoral boy, while Will and his companions were only boyish, and full of animal spirits.

The boys longed for night to come, as they imagined they could easily confute the vile and slovenly old necromancer’s errors, and find food for laughter. Some time[216] before sunset they turned out in force, and mustered just below the falls. Everything that could possibly be made useful was on hand. George, poor boy, had freighted himself with a coil of heavy rope, but he bore up bravely, and strode onward without a groan.

When they were fairly started, Charles suddenly in-inquired of him: “What in the world have you brought that rope along for, George?”

“To draw the treasure home with,” was the somewhat startling answer, coolly given.

“The treasure!” Charles cried. “Why, I thought you ‘put no faith’ in that! and besides, you can’t draw gold and silver with a rope!”

“Don’t be foolish,” the Sage replied. “I believe in no treasure at all; but you must pretend to believe in it, or else you will never get it. As for taking it home with a rope, the book says it will be in a huge chest, bound with iron bands. Therefore, I bring this rope along to make the spirits believe I believe in their beliefs.”

Having made this logical explanation, the Sage panted for breath, but drew himself up proudly, and looked defiantly on his tormentor, crushing him beneath his eloquence and his aspect.

Charles finally uttered an “Oh!” of relief, and then the procession moved on.

As the sun sank lower and lower, the boys hastened more and more. Will had calculated the time very accurately, and said it was foolish to hurry; but his school-fellows were aware of his failing, and for fear he had made a mistake, they were too impatient to proceed leisurely.

Notwithstanding the ridicule which the boys cast upon George for his strict observance of all the “directions,” they did not wish to omit any of them in making the experiment. Accordingly, all were anxious to arrive at the evergreen just in time to have the moon throw a shadow on it four feet high.

And by some strange chance they did.

As soon as the tree came in sight, Steve exclaimed, “There it is, boys! The very same, identical, self-same tree!”

[217]

“Its very close to the water,” George growled, as he made a vain effort to ease his aching shoulders.

“It’s from two to five feet from the water,” Steve replied. “That’s plenty of room to go between it and the shore, and plenty of room to measure the fine shadow there will be.”

“Then we must draw cuts to see whether it’s the right evergreen............