The All-Story, March 1914 — page 179: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

692 and, going through the unexpected doorway, found himself ina fairly large chamber. “ T swan to man!” he exclained. never saw this place before.” “[ found it all myself,’ Ike ex- plained with becoming modesty. “They don’t any of the other boys know about it. The door was all chocked up with stones and things.” Ele took the lantern from Sam's fee- ble grasp and set it on the floor in front of the opening. “Tf I should show you something real valuable, you wouldnt give that spruce to Dr. Foster, would you, Mr. Tupper?” he inquired in wheedling sail | tones. “Call me Sam, Ike,” the farmer urged. “ About that spruce. now—lI don’t know but what I'd do as you ask if you should show me something real good.” “Won't you promise?” urged Ike. “No, I ain’t going to make any promises. I told you that before. Just you get busy now and show me what you've found.” Ike, while disappointed, did as he was told. He attacked the earth floor of the cavern at the side of the en- trance, and, laboring industriously, had soon excavated a hole a foot deep and some three feet square. “Tet me spell you, Ikey,” said Sam. Suiting action to the words, he took the tool and continued the digging. He had gone down another foot when his fork tines struck something hard. Prodding at it, he realized that it was not stone. It was of an even, un- yielding surface; it was—it must be— the treasure. *3 ‘“T've got it! ve got it!” he yelled and began digging with renewed energy. In another minute he had loosened the earth enough to scoop it out with his fingers and feel of what he had found, It was wood fashioned by hand; that much was clear from the square cor- ners. Grubbing with his fingers into THE ALL-STORY the damp mold at one side. he encoun- tered what feit like a padlock of ancient ' manufacture. “ Here, iet ne dig: it’s my turn now,” said Ike, trying to wrest the fork from: Sam. But Sam resisted. “Til finish this up, Ikey,” he said. “It's on my farm, and anyway you're not strong enough.” . “NO; 1 want to dig!” cried Ike. “T brought the spading- fork.” : Sam's erip on the useful tool tights ened and he refused to be coerced. Leggo of it, I tell you!” he com- manded. “ Im going to finish this job. now.”’ They were like two boys quarreling. over possession of a baseball-bat: and victory would have fallen to Sam had not chance intervened. But suddenly, while they were still glaring at one another, there was a clatter, and the Jantern Ike had set at the entrance rolled over and went out. They had just tine, looking up quickly before being left in utter dark- ness, to catch a glimpse of the inquiring face of Bucyrus framed in the hole through which they had entered. — CHAPTER VIII. SAM'S BARGAIN. SILENCE enwrapped the partners in this catastrophe. Sam, his suspicions of the benevolent intentions of the boy renewed, cling to the spading-fork with a death- grip, and was relieved When he felt the other releasing his hold. From the outer darkness came an ins quiring “* Baa-a-a!” “Darn that old sheep, anyway!” spoke Ike's voice. “ He went and kicked over the lantern.” “ You be careful what you say, Ike Jackson,” warned Sam. ‘ That's my sheep and this is my farm we're on.” “It didu’t break, anyway.” returned the boy's voice, more cheerfully. “We'd have heard it if it had. You 5 BD) got a match: eomlicbooks.com