
<y 
 
 A^^^yy 
 
 yjM 
 
 /?<?£ 
 
THE STEALING OF THE TREASURE. 
 
TOM PAULDING 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil 
 
 http://archive.org/details/tompauldingstorymatt 
 
TOM PAULDING 
 
 THE STORY OF A SEARCH FOR BURIED TREASURE 
 IN THE STREETS OF NEW YORK 
 
 BY 
 
 BRANDER MATTHEWS 
 
 FIFTH 
 THOUSAND 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 
 1892 
 
Copyright, 1891, 1892, by 
 The Century Co. 
 
 The OeVinne Press. 
 
This story of a young American is inscribed to 
 
 Thomas Wentworth Hjgginson, 
 who has deserved well of all americans, white 
 and black, women and men, young folks and old. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 I The Scene op the Story 1 
 
 II Around the Bonfire 10 
 
 III A Walk by the River 21 
 
 IV Pauline and the Careful Katie 30 
 
 V At the Breakfast-Table 40 
 
 VI The Box of Papers 51 
 
 VII Cakes and a Composition 68 
 
 VIII A Quarrel and an Arrival 77 
 
 IX Uncle Dick 87 
 
 X A Lesson in Geography 105 
 
 XI Santa Claus brings a Suggestion 112 
 
 XII The Fate of Jeffrey Kerr 130 
 
 XIII Christmas Morning and Christmas Night 138 
 
 XIV The Battle of the Curls 150 
 
 XV A New-Year's-Day Departure 162 
 
Page 
 
 XVI Tom has Patience 171 
 
 XVII Enlisting Allies 181 
 
 XVIII Making Ready 192 
 
 XIX Jeffrey Kerr's Booty 204 
 
 XX The " Working Hypothesis " 214 
 
 XXI A Startling Discovery 226 
 
 XXII Counsel 237 
 
 XXIII Conclusion 245 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 
 The Stealing of the Treasure Frontispiece 
 
 Sketch in Upper New York 4 
 
 Typical Sketches op Upper New York 5 
 
 "Tom was Tied to a Stake, with his Hands behind 
 
 Him" 19 
 
 " Tom had made Her a Seat on one Side of this Tree " 35 
 
 "'I'm Going to See if we can't Get back Some of that 
 
 Stolen MopiY,' said. Tom" 49 
 
 "Tom had to Puzzle Out and Piece Together, but at 
 last he got at all the facts so far as it was 
 Possible to Discover Them" 57 
 
 " ' Guess what I 've found ! ' she cried " . 72 
 
 "Tom was Able to find Most of the Positions Indi- 
 cated on the Map" 83 
 
 Pauline and Uncle Dick Inspecting the "Cat-ranch" 89 
 
 Uncle Dick Tells Tom and Polly his Adventures 97 
 
 Uncle Dick Tells Polly about the Diamond-fields 109 
 
Page 
 Mr. Joshua Hoffmann has a Talk with Uncle Dick 115 
 
 "Corkscrew" -Tells Uncle Dick and Tom of the Dis- 
 covery by the Aqueduct Laborers 123 
 
 '"I Think I Know where the Thief is,' the Boy began" 131 
 
 Uncle Dick and Tom go to the Fire 146 
 
 "Involuntarily Tom Raised his Hand to his Head, and 
 
 he felt the Little Twists of Paper" 159 
 
 "Tom would Pretend to Sound Rocks with a Stick" 175 
 
 "Tom said Solemnly, 'Fellows, can you Keep a 
 
 Secret?'" 186 
 
 "Thus the Procession Set Out" 201 
 
 "In a Second he was Soaked Through" 212 
 
 " Tom Paulding Stooped and Picked Out a Dozen Yel- 
 low Coins" 215 
 
 "Taking up the Stopper, he Touched a Drop of the 
 
 Liquid to the Marks" 235 
 
 "Tom Told her the Whole Story" 243 
 
 Mrs. Paulding Receives her Christmas Present 251 
 
TOM PAULDING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 
 
 N every great city there are unexplored 
 fastnesses as little known to the world 
 at large as is the heart of the Dark Con- 
 tinent. Now and again it happens that 
 a sudden turn in the tide of business or 
 of fashion brings into view these hither- 
 to unexplored regions. Then there begins at once a strug- 
 gle between the old and the new, between the conditions 
 which obtained when that part of the city was ignored, and 
 those which prevail now that it has been brought to the 
 knowledge of men. The struggle is sharp, for a while ; but 
 the end is inevitable. The old cannot withstand the new; 
 and in a brief space of time the unknown region wakes up, 
 and there is a fresh life in all its streets ; there is a tearing 
 down, and there is a building up ; and in a few months the 
 place ceases to be old, although it has not yet become new. 
 
2 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 During this state of transition there are many curious 
 changes; and a pair of sharp eyes can see many curious 
 things. 
 
 In this Manhattan Island of ours, there is more than one 
 undiscovered country of this kind ; and in a city as active and 
 as restless as New York it is only a question of time how soon 
 such a quarter shall be discovered, and rescued from neglect. 
 Though a place may have been abandoned for a century, 
 sooner or later some one will find it out again. Though it 
 may have been left on one side during the forced march of 
 improvement, sooner or later some one will see its advan- 
 tages, and will make them plain. 
 
 At the time of this story, when om* hero, young Tom 
 Paulding, set forth upon his quest for buried treasure, in the 
 ninth decade of the nineteenth century, the quarter of New 
 York where he lived, and where he sought what had been 
 lost more than a hundred years before, was passing through 
 a period of transition. This part of New York lies above 
 Central Park, behind Morningside Park and beside the Hud- 
 son River, where the Riverside Drive stretches itself out for 
 two miles and more along the brow of the wooded hill. 
 
 This portion of the city has much natural beauty and not 
 a little historic interest. Just beyond the rocky terrace of 
 Morningside Park was fought the battle of Harlem Plains on 
 September 16, 1776. Then it was that the British troops, 
 having occupied the lower part of the island, assaulted the 
 Continental forces, and were beaten back. For days there- 
 after, General Washington had his headquarters within a 
 
THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 3 
 
 mile or two of the spot where General Grant now lies 
 buried. 
 
 In the fourscore years which elapsed between the retire- 
 ment of Washington from the presidency of these United 
 States and the election of Grant to that exalted position, the 
 part of Manhattan Island where Tom Paulding lived, and 
 where his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grand- 
 father had lived before him, changed very little. In 1876 it 
 seemed almost as remote from the centers of trade and of 
 fashion as it had been in 1776. Although it was not out of 
 town, it was beyond the beaten track of traffic. Just before 
 the Revolution, and immediately after it, handsome country- 
 seats had been built here and there on the heights over- 
 looking the Hudson. And here and there, on the rocky 
 knobs that thrust themselves up through the soil, squatters 
 had since set up their little wooden shanties, increasing in 
 number as the edges of the city spread out nearer and 
 nearer. 
 
 In time the Riverside Drive was laid out along the river ; 
 and then the transformation began. Day by day there were 
 changes; and year by year the neighborhood was hardly 
 recognizable. 
 
 Here had been one of the few spots on Manhattan Island 
 where nature was allowed to run wild and to do as she 
 thought best, unimpeded by man ; and by great good fort- 
 une the advancing tide of city life was not allowed to over- 
 whelm altogether the natural beauty of the region. The 
 irregularities of the surface were planed over, it is true; 
 
TOM PAULDING. 
 
 streets were cut through the walls of rock which then arose 
 in jagged cliffs high above the sidewalks on both sides, and 
 avenues were carried across sunken meadows, leaving deep, 
 wide hollows where the winter snows collected. 
 
 Around the shanties which were perched upon the rocks, 
 sheer above the new streets, goats browsed on the scanty 
 
 herbage ; and down in the 
 hollows which lay below the 
 level of the same thorough- 
 fares, geese swam about 
 placidly, and squawked 
 when a passing boy was 
 carelessly cruel enough to 
 throw a stone at the peace- 
 ful flock. 
 
 It is a region of contrasts 
 as it is a time of transition. 
 In one block can be seen the 
 old orchard winch girt about 
 one of the handsome coun- 
 try-places built here early .in 
 the century; and in the next can be seen the frames of a 
 market-gardener, who is raising lettuce under glass, on 
 ground which the enterprising builder may demand any day. 
 The patched and weather-stained shanty of the market-gar- 
 dener may be within the shadow of a new marble mansion 
 with its plate-glass conservatory. An old wooden house with 
 a Grecian portico is torn down to make room for a tall flat, 
 
 SKETCH IN UPPER NEW YORK. 
 
TYF1CAL SKETCHES OF UrrEK NEW YOKK. 
 
THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 7 
 
 stretching itself seven stories high, with accommodation for a 
 dozen families at least. The builder is constantly at work. 
 The insignificant whistle of his engine announces the morn- 
 ing ; and the dull report of blasting is of daily frequency. 
 
 With its many possibilities, this is perhaps the part of New 
 York where a boy can find the most wholesome fun. He is 
 iu the city, although he has many of the privileges of the 
 country. He can walk under trees and climb hills ; and yet 
 he is not beyond the delights of the town. There are long 
 slopes down which he may coast in winter ; and there are as 
 yet many vacant lots where he may play ball in summer. 
 There is the Morningside Park with its towering battlements, 
 just the place for a sham fight. There is the Riverside Park 
 with its broad terrace extending nearly three miles along the 
 river front, and with its strip of woodland sloping steeply to 
 the railroad track by the river. 
 
 It is a place with nearly every advantage that a boy can 
 wish. For one thing, there is unceasing variety. If he takes 
 a walk by the parapet of the Riverside, the freight-trains on 
 the railroad below rush past fiercely, and are so long that the 
 engine will be quite out of sight before the caboose at the 
 end comes into view. From the brow of the hill the moving 
 panorama of the Hudson unrolls itself before him ; above 
 are the Palisades rising sheer from the water's edge and 
 crowned with verdure; opposite is Weehawken, and just 
 below are the Elysian Fields, now sadly shorn of their green 
 beauty. No two views of the river are ever alike, except 
 possibly in winter when the stream may freeze over. In the 
 
8 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 summer there is an incessant change ; yachts tack across 
 against the breeze ; immense tows of canal-boats come down 
 drawn by one broad and powerful steamboat ; and pert little 
 tugs puff their way up and down, here and there. The day- 
 boats go up every morning and the night-boats follow them 
 every evening. Excursions and picnic parties go by in 
 double-decked barges, lashed together side by side, and gay 
 with flags and music. Sometimes a swift steam-yacht speeds 
 up stream to West Point, and sometimes a sloop loaded 
 with brick from Haverstraw drifts down with the tide. 
 
 On land there is a change almost as incessant. Buildings 
 are going up everywhere ; shanties are being torn down ; and 
 streets are being cut through here and filled up there, and 
 paved, and torn up again to lay pipe, and repaired again, and 
 torn up yet once more. There is a constant effort toward 
 the completion of the Riverside Park, and of Morningside 
 Park but a few blocks beyond it. There is also the new 
 aqueduct, bringing more water from the Croton hills to the 
 host of dwellers in the city. 
 
 When Tom Paulding first saw the men at work on this 
 great undertaking, he little knew how necessary that water 
 would one day be to him in his quest, or how the laborers 
 who were laying the gigantic pipes in deep trenches under- 
 ground would unwittingly lend him their aid. 
 
 But there is no need to dally longer over this description 
 of the place where the young New Yorker lived who is to be 
 the chief character of the story set forth in the following 
 pages. It is time now to introduce Tom Paulding himself ; 
 
THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 9 
 
 to show you what manner of boy ho was ; to make you ac- 
 quainted with his friends and companions ; to explain how 
 it happened that his uncle returned home in time to advise j 
 and to tell how it was that he set out to find the treasure. 
 What the final result of Ins quest was will be fully shown 
 in this narrative; but whether or not Tom Paulding was 
 successful in his endeavor, every reader must decide for 
 himself. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 AROUND THE BONFIRE. 
 
 N one of the side streets extending east- 
 ward from the Riverside Park, a dozen 
 boys were gathered about a barrel, which 
 had been raised on four stones. It was 
 late in the afternoon of the Tuesday fol- 
 lowing the first Monday in November ; and 
 the boys were about to exercise the im- 
 memorial privilege of young New Yorkers on election night. 
 Between the stones which supported the barrel were two or 
 three crumpled newspapers and a heap of shavings. Within 
 the wooden chimney of the barrel itself were the sides of a 
 broken box, six or eight short boards, and such other com- 
 bustible odds and ends as the boys had been able to get 
 together against the coming of the fiery holiday. The im- 
 promptu altar had been erected almost in the middle of the 
 street ; but as there was scarcely a house within a block on 
 either side, and as few carriages or carts needed to come 
 down that way, there was little danger that the bonfire of the 
 " Black Band " would frighten any horses. 
 
AROUND THE BONFIRE. 11 
 
 When the shavings had been inspected, and he had made 
 sure that the flames would be able to rise readily through 
 the improvised flue, the boy who seemed to be the leader 
 looked around and said, " Who 's got a match 1 " 
 
 " Here 's a whole box ! " cried little Jimmy Wigger, thrust- 
 ing himself through the ring of youngsters ranged about the 
 barrel. He was the smallest boy of all, and he was greatly 
 pleased to be of service. 
 
 " Are you going to set it off now, Cissy ? " a tall thin lad 
 asked. 
 
 " Well, I am ! " answered the boy who had been making 
 ready for the fire. " We said that we 'd start -it up at five 
 o'clock, did n't we ? " 
 
 The speaker was a solidly built young fellow of about four- 
 teen, with a round, good-naturecLface. His name was Mar- 
 cus Cicero Smith ; his father always called him " Cicero," and 
 among his playfellows and companions he was known as 
 " Cissy," for short. 
 
 A timid voice suggested, .-'What 's your hurry, Cissy? 
 Tom Paulding is n't here yet." 
 
 This voice belonged to Harry Zachary, a slim boy of scant 
 thirteen, shy in manner and hesitating in speech. He had 
 light golden hair and light-blue eyes. 
 
 " If Tom Paulding 's late," replied Cissy, as he stooped for- 
 ward and set fire to the paper and shavings, " so much the 
 worse for Tom, that 's all. He knows the appointed hour as 
 well as we do." 
 
 " I 'd just like to know what is keeping Tom. He 's not 
 
12 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 often late," said the tall thin lad who had spoken before, and 
 as he said it he twisted himself about, looking over his 
 shoulders with a strange spiral movement. It was partly on 
 account of this peculiar habit of self -contortion that he was 
 generally addressed as "Corkscrew." But that nickname 
 had been given also because of his extraordinary inquisitive- 
 ness. His curiosity was unceasing and inordinate. It is to 
 be recorded, moreover, that he had straight red hah-, and 
 that his thin legs were made more conspicuous by a large 
 pair of boots, the tops of which rose above his knees. His 
 real name was George William Lott. 
 
 As the wood in the barrel kindled and blazed up, the boys 
 heaped on more fuel from a pile outside their circle. While 
 taking a broken board from the stack, little Jimmy Wigger 
 looked up and saw a figure approaching. The street where 
 they were assembled had been cut through high rocks which 
 towered up on each side, irregular and jagged. Twilight 
 had begun to settle down on the city, and in the hollow 
 where the roadway ran between the broken crags there was 
 little light but that of the bonfire. It was difficult to make 
 out a stranger until he was close upon them. 
 
 " Some one is coming ! " cried little Jimmy, glad that he 
 had again been able to be useful. 
 
 The approaching figure stood still at once. 
 
 The group about the fire spread open, and Cissy careened 
 forward a few feet. He had always a strange swing in his 
 walk, not unlike the rolling gait of a sailor. 
 
 When he had swung ahead four or five paces he paused, 
 
AROUND THE BONFIRE. 13 
 
 and raising his fingers to his lips, he gave a shrill whistle 
 with a peculiar cadence : 
 
 Igp^^i^ 
 
 The stranger also stood still, and made the expected answer 
 with a flourish of its own : 
 
 E 
 
 ^^ = Z == L±j ^ 
 
 m 
 
 11 It 's Tom Paulding," said Harry Zachary. 
 
 " I wonder what has made him so late/"' Corkscrew re- 
 marked. 
 
 Cissy Smith took another- step forward, and cried, "Who 
 goes there ? " 
 
 The new-comer also advanced a step, which brought him 
 into the glare of the blazing barrel. He was seen to be a 
 well-knit boy of barely fourteen, with dark-brown eyes and 
 curly black hair. 
 
 To Cissy's challenge he answered in a clear voice, "A 
 friend of the Black Band." 
 
 " Advance, friend of the Black Band, and give the counter- 
 sign and grip." 
 
 Each of the two boys took three paces forward, and stood 
 face to face. 
 
 The new-comer bent forward and solemnly whispered in 
 ,( Cissy's ear the secret password of ihe Black Band, " Captain 
 Kidd." 
 
14 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 With the same solemnity, Cissy whispered back, " As he 
 sailed." Then he extended his right hand. 
 
 Tom Paulding grasped this firmly in his own, slipping his 
 little finger between Cissy's third and little fingers ; then he 
 pressed the back of Cissy's hand three times with his own 
 thumb. 
 
 These proper formalities having been observed with due 
 decorum, the boys released their grasp and walked together 
 to the bonfire. 
 
 " What made you so late, Tom ? " asked Corkscrew. 
 
 "My mother kept me while she finished a letter to my 
 Uncle Dick that she wanted me to mail for her," Tom Pauld- 
 ing replied ; " and besides I had to find my dark lantern." 
 
 " Have you got it here ? " said Cissy. 
 
 " Oh, do let me see it ! " cried little Jimmy Wigger. 
 
 Tom Paulding unbuttoned his jacket and took the lantern 
 from his belt. There was at once perceptible a strong odor 
 of burnt varnish ; but the circle of admiring boys did not 
 mind this. The possession of a dark lantern increased their 
 admiration for its owner, who was a favorite, partly from his 
 frank and pleasant manner, and partly because of his ingenu- 
 ity in devising new sports. It was Tom Paulding who had 
 started the Black Band, a society of thirteen boys all solemnly 
 bound to secrecy and to be faithful, one to another, whatever 
 might befall. Cissy Smith, as the oldest of the thirteen, had 
 been elected captain, at Tom's suggestion, and Tom himself 
 .'was lieutenant. 
 
 " Is it lighted ? " little Jimmy Wigger asked, as he caught 
 
AROUND THE BONFIRE. 15 
 
 sight of a faint spot of light at the back of the dark lantern 
 in Tom's hand. 
 
 " Of course it is," Tom replied, and he turned the bull's-eye 
 toward the rugged wall of rocks which arose at the side of 
 the street, and pulled the slide. A faint disk of light ap- 
 peared on the stones. 
 
 " That 's bully ! " said Harry Zachary, in his usual hesita- 
 ting voice. " I wish I had one ! " 
 
 " What good is a dark lantern, anyhow ? " asked Corkscrew 
 Lott, who was almost as envious as he was curious. " What 
 did you bring it out for 1 " 
 
 "Well," Tom answered, "I had a reason. We had n't 
 agreed what the Black Band was to be this evening ; and I 
 thought if we were burglars, for instance, it would be useful 
 to have a dark lantern." 
 
 " Hooray ! " said Cissy. " Let 's be burglars." 
 i There was a general cry of assent to this proposition. 
 
 "A burglar always has a dark lantern," Tom went on, 
 "and he 'most always has a jimmy — " 
 
 "Well, where 's your jimmy ? " interrupted Lott. 
 
 " Here it is," Tom answered, taking a dark stick from its 
 place of concealment in the back of his jacket. " It ought 
 to be iron, you know ; a jimmy 's a sort of baby crowbar. 
 But I made this out of an old broomstick I got from our 
 Katie. I whittled it down to the right shape at the end, and 
 then I polished it off with blacking and a shoe-brush. It 
 does look like iron, does n't it ? " 
 
 The jimmy was passed from hand to hand, and met with 
 
1G TOM PAULDING. 
 
 general approval. Even Corkscrew Lott had no fault to find 
 with it. 
 
 " We ought to have everything real burglars have, if we 
 are going into the burgling business," added Tom. 
 
 " If we are burglars," said little Jimmy Wigger, in a plaint- 
 ive voice, " can't we begin burgling soon ? Because my aunt 
 says I must be home by eight this evening, sure." 
 
 " I said it was a mistake to let that baby into the Black 
 Band," Corkscrew remarked ; " a pretty burglar he '11 make ! " 
 
 " Yes, I will ! " cried little Jimmy, sturdily ; " I '11 make as 
 good a burglar as you any day ! " 
 
 " I could tell you stories about burglars that would make 
 your hair curl," said Harry Zachary, noticing that little 
 Jimmy had shrunk back. 
 
 " Then tell them to Tom Paulding," Lott cried ; " he likes 
 to have his hair curl. I believe he puts it up in curl-papers ! " 
 
 Now, if there was one thing which annoyed Tom more than 
 another, it was that his hair was curly, " like a girl's " as he 
 had said in disgust to his sister only that morning. And if 
 there was any member of the Black Band toward whom he 
 did not feel a brotherly cordiality, it was Lott. 
 
 " Look here, Corkscrew," he said hotly, " you let my hah* 
 alone, or I '11 punch your head ! " 
 
 " You had better not try it," returned Lott. " You could n't 
 do it." 
 
 " We '11 see about that, if you say anything more against 
 my hair ! " Tom replied. 
 
 " I '11 say what I please," responded Corkscrew. 
 
AROUND THE BONFIRE. 17 
 
 By this time Tom had recovered his temper. 
 
 "Say what you please/' he answered, *<and if it does n't 
 please me, we '11 have it out. The sooner we do, the better ; 
 for I don't believe we can get through the winter without a 
 fight, and I sha'n't be sorry to have it over." 
 
 " Silence in the ranks," ordered the Captain of the Black 
 Band, as he saw that Lott was ready to keep up the quarrel. 
 " Is it agreed that we are to be burglars ? " 
 
 "No," answered Corkscrew quickly, before any of the 
 others could speak. " We have n't got all the things. Let 's 
 be Indians on the war-path. We 've got a bully fire now, 
 and it 's the only night we can have it. So we can play we Ve 
 a captive, and we can burn him at the stake, and have a 
 scalp-dance around the barrel." 
 
 " That 's a good idea," Harry Zachary agreed. " They 
 won't let us have a bonfire except on election night." 
 
 " That 's so," Cissy admitted. 
 
 Lott saw his advantage and seized it promptly. 
 
 " We can be burglars any time," he cried, " if we want to. 
 But to-night 's the best time to be Indians. It 's our only 
 chance to burn a captive at the stake." 
 
 "We might make him run the gantlet first," suggested 
 Harry Zachary, who was a delicate boy of a very mild ap- 
 pearance, but strangely fertile in sanguinary suggestions. 
 
 " Let little Jimmy Wigger be the captive," Lott proposed. 
 "We won't hurt him much." 
 
 "No, you don't," Tom Paulding interposed. "Little 
 Jimmy is too young. Besides, when his aunt let him join 
 
18 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 the Black Band, I promised that I would keep him out of 
 mischief." 
 
 "Then who '11 run the gantlet?" asked Lott, sulkily. 
 
 " I will/' Tom answered. " I 'd just as lief. In fact, I 'd 
 liefer. I Ve never been burned at the stake yet, and the 
 Sioux shall see how a Pawnee can die ! " 
 
 Then, at the command of Cissy Smith, the Black Band 
 formed in a double row facing inward, and Tom Paidding 
 ran the gantlet. When he came to the end of the lines he 
 broke away, and the whole troop pursued him. After a 
 sharp run he was caught, and brought back to the bonfire. 
 More fuel was heaped upon this, and it blazed up fiercely. 
 A stake was driven into the ground not far from the fire, 
 and Tom was tied to it, with his hands behind him. Then, 
 under the leadership of Cissy Smith, the Black Band circled 
 about the fire and the stake, with Indian yells and shrill 
 whistles. As the flames rose and fell on the shouting boys 
 and on the broken rocks which towered high above them on 
 both sides, an imaginative spectator might almost have fan- 
 cied himself gazing at some strange rite of the redskins in a 
 far canon of Colorado. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A WALK BY THE RIVER. 
 
 BOUT six o'clock Jimmy Wigger's aunt 
 came for him. He begged hard for only 
 a few minutes more, but she did not yield 
 and he went away reluctantly. Other 
 members of the Black Band remembered 
 that their suppers would be waiting for 
 them ; and soon the assembly broke up. The smaller boys 
 were the first to go, and the Captain and Lieutenant of the 
 Black Band were the last to leave the blazing barrel which 
 now was almost burnt out. 
 
 Tom Paulding had released himself from the bonds that 
 bound him to the stake ; and as he was stooping over the 
 embers to warm his hands, Cissy Smith proposed that they 
 should go for a walk through the woods between the River- 
 side Drive and the river. Tom agreed at once, and asked 
 Harry Zachary to come also. 
 
 Corkscrew Lott had started off ahead of them, but at the 
 first corner he, too, joined the group. 
 
 The boys walked down the street four abreast, Cissy rolling 
 
22 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 along irregularly in his usual fashion. They crossed the 
 Riverside Drive and stood for a minute at the head of the 
 stone steps that led to the strip of steep woodland below. 
 There was a sharp whistle in the distance, and then an ad- 
 vancing roar; and a short passenger train rushed rapidly 
 past them, the flying white steam from the engine reddened 
 by the glare from the furnace as the fireman threw in fresh 
 fuel. Out on the broad river beyond, one of the night-boats 
 went up the river, its rippling wake gleaming in the bluish 
 moonlight. 
 
 " I wonder why little Jimmy's aunt came for him so early," 
 said Corkscrew, twisting himself up on the parapet to get a 
 good look over it. 
 
 " If she 'd found him tied to the stake, and the Black Band 
 scalp-dancing all around him, she 'd have been 'most scared 
 out of a year's growth, I reckon," Harry Zachary commented. 
 His mother was a Kentuckian, and it was from her that he 
 learned his gentle ways and his excellent manners. He had 
 taken also from her an occasional Southern phrase not com- 
 mon in New York. 
 
 " I don't believe it would be much fun to be an Indian 
 really," Cissy remarked. " I guess they have a pretty hard 
 time of it when it 's cold and rainy — leastwise those I 've 
 seen West did n't seem any too set up and happy." Cissy's 
 father, Dr. Smith, had only a short time before removed to 
 New York from Denver. 
 
 "Have you seen real Indians out West?" asked Tom 
 Paulding. "Were they on the war-path?" 
 
A WALK BY THE RIVER. 23 
 
 "Not much they were n't. They were coming into the 
 agency to get their rations," Cissy answered. 
 
 " Did you kill any of 'em when you had the chance ? " 
 asked Harry in his usual timid voice. 
 
 "I did n't kill 'em. Of course not," Cissy responded. 
 "Why should I?" 
 
 Tom Paulding was kindly by nature, but he was a little 
 disappointed to learn that his friend had neglected a chance 
 to kill a redskin. 
 
 " Perhaps you 've never read a book called ' Nick of the 
 Woods ' ? " Harry Zachary inquired. " That tells all about 
 a man they called the Jibbenainosay, who lived in the forest 
 and killed Indians, and marked every man he killed so that 
 they should know the handiwork of the Mysterious Avenger." 
 
 " My Uncle Dick, when he went up to the Black Hills, had 
 a fight with the Indians," said Tom. 
 
 " How many did he kill ? " asked Corkscrew, promptly. 
 
 "He did n't know," replied Tom, "but — " 
 
 " If he did n't know how many he killed what was the use 
 of talking about it?" Harry Zachary asked. "That is n't 
 any way to do. The best plan is to be alone in the woods, 
 and take 'em by surprise, and kill 'em, one by one, and mark 
 'em." 
 
 " And suppose one of them takes you by surprise and kills 
 you, what then "1 " Cissy interposed. 
 
 " I reckon I 'd have to take my chances, if I was an 
 Avenger," Harry admitted. "But in the books they 'most 
 always get the best of it." 
 
24 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Let 's go down to the water as we said we would," sug- 
 gested Cissy. 
 
 " Look at that schooner," Tom cried, as they were going 
 down the long stone stairway. "She 's a beauty, and no 
 mistake." 
 
 " That 's the kind of a ship I 'd have if I was a pirate like 
 Lafitte," said Harry Zachary. 
 
 " How can you be a pirate now, when there are policemen 
 everywhere ? " asked Cissy, scornfully. 
 
 "I 'd like to be a pirate some place where there are n't 
 any policemen," Harry explained. " Down in Patagonia, or 
 up in Greenland, or somewhere." 
 
 " They 'd be sure to send a big frigate after you," said 
 Tom Paulding ; " they always do." 
 
 " Then I 'd fight the frigate till the deck ran with blood," 
 persisted Harry, with a tone of excitement in his gentle 
 voice. " I 'd nail the black flag to the mast ; and if they got 
 the better of us I 'd fire the powder-magazine and blow up 
 the whole boat — and that would surprise them, I reckon." 
 
 " It is n't the kind of surprise party I want," said Cissy 
 emphatically, as the boys came to a halt among the trees 
 near the railroad track by the edge of the river. 
 
 "How many pirates would there be on a boat like that?" 
 inquired Lott. 
 
 "How many beans make five?" Cissy Smith answered 
 sarcastically. " There 's a Boston problem for you." 
 
 Lott had been born in Boston, and he had lived in New 
 York less than a year. 
 
A WALK BY THE RIVER. 25 
 
 "I wish I knew a place where a pirate had buried his 
 treasure/' he remarked, paying no attention to Smith's taunt. 
 
 " Now, there 's another thing that 's great fun," Harry in- 
 terjected, " and that 's hunting for buried treasure. I Ve 
 read all about that in a story called ' The Gold Bug.' It 's 
 pretty interesting, I reckon, to dig under a tree with a skele- 
 ton or a skull on one branch, and to find thousands and 
 thousands of guineas and doubloons and pieces-of-eight." 
 
 " Pieces of eight what ? " asked Cissy. 
 
 " Pieces-of-eight — why, that 's just the name they have 
 for them. They 're some kind of a coin, I reckon," replied 
 Harry. 
 
 " Pieces of eight cents, very likely," Cissy returned. " I 
 don't believe it 's worth while wearing yourself out with 
 hard labor just to dig up a few pieces of eight cents. And 
 who would all these guineas and doubloons and pieces of 
 eight cents belong to when you found 'em ? " 
 
 " They 'd belong to us, I reckon," answered Harry. 
 
 "And just suppose they did n't?" retorted Cissy. 
 
 " Suppose the rightful owner turned up," suggested Tom 
 Paulding ; " the man who had buried the money during the 
 war, or the son of the man, or his grandson ? " 
 
 Harry Zachary was a little taken aback at this. His 
 manner, always gentle and shy, now seemed milder than 
 ever. 
 
 " Well," he said at last, " I reckon I d have the luck to find 
 
 the treasure that belonged to our family — that had been hid 
 
 by mv father, maybe, or my grandfather." 
 3 
 
26 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Shucks! " cried Cissy, forcibly. "Being a pirate where 
 there 's uo police and finding buried treasure that belongs 
 to you-^I don't think that 's so very exciting, do you?" 
 
 Harry Zachary felt that this was a home thrust, and he 
 had no retort ready. Tom Paulding came to his rescue and 
 gave a practical turn to the talk. 
 
 " There 's a buried treasure belonging to us, somewhere," 
 he said, conscious of the envy this remark would excite. 
 
 " Where is it ? " asked Corkscrew, promptly. 
 
 " If he knew where it was, don't you suppose he 'd hustle 
 round and get it ? " Cissy remarked. 
 
 " It is n't really buried treasure," explained Tom, " at least, 
 we don't know whether it 's buried or not, or what has 
 become of it. You see, it 's just a lot of money that was 
 stolen from my great-grandfather during the Revolutionary 
 War." 
 
 " I guess the great-grandchildren of the man that stole it 
 have a better chance of getting it than you have," said Cissy. 
 
 " He did n't leave any family — he did n't leave any trace 
 of himself, even," Tom replied. " He just disappeared, tak- 
 ing the money with him. He 's never been seen or heard of 
 since, so my mother told me." 
 
 " And I guess the money will never be seen or heard of, 
 either," Cissy remarked. 
 
 "How much was it?" Corkscrew inquired. 
 
 " Oh, a lot ! " Tom answered ; " several thousand pounds 
 — as much gold as a man could carry. He took all he could 
 lift comfortably." 
 
A WALK BY THE RIVER. 27 
 
 " What would you do with it, if you had it ? " asked Cork- 
 screw. 
 
 " I 'd pay off the mortgage on our house," said Tom, 
 promptly. ' ; And I 'd get lots of things for Pauline — my 
 sister, you know ; and instead of going into a store as I 've 
 got to do next winter, I 'd study to be a mining engineer." 
 
 "I'd rather be a soldier," Harry Zachary declared. 
 " What would you like to be, Cissy ? " 
 
 " It does n't make any matter what I 'd like to be," replied 
 Cissy j "I know what I am going to be — and that 's a doctor. 
 Pa says that he '11 need an assistant by the time I 'm through 
 the medical school, and he allows he can ring me in on his 
 patients." 
 
 " I have n't made up my mind what I 'd like to be," said 
 Lott. "At first I thought I 'd choose to be an expressman, 
 because then I 'd get inside all sorts of houses, and see how 
 the people lived, and learn all sorts of things. But I 've been 
 thinking it might be more fun to be a detective, because then 
 I could find out anything I wanted to know." 
 
 " I guess it would take the Astor Library to hold all you 
 want to know, Corkscrew," said Cissy, pleasantly, as the boys 
 began to retrace their steps up the hill ; " but all you 're 
 likely to find out could be put in a copybook ! " 
 
 Lott fell back a little and walked by the side of Harry 
 Zachary. 
 
 " I wonder what makes Cissy Smith so pernickety," he said. 
 " He 's always poking fun at me." 
 
 " I would n't mind him now," responded Harry, consolingly, 
 
28 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " and when you are a detective you can find out something 
 about him and arrest him." 
 
 This comforting suggestion helped to keep up Lott's 
 spirits, although Smith made more than one other sarcastic 
 remark as the four climbed the hillside together. 
 
 " I can't bear that Corkscrew," Cissy confessed to Tom in 
 a whisper. 
 
 " Well," Tom answered, also in a whisper, " I don't know 
 that I really like him, myself. But he 's one of the Black 
 Band now, and I suppose we must stand by him." 
 
 When the boys came out again on the high parapet of the 
 Riverside Drive, it was time for them to go home. They 
 went through the parting rites of the Black Band. Cissy ex- 
 tended his right hand and gave Tom the secret grip of the 
 society, while Lott and Harry Zachary clasped their hands in 
 the same mystic manner above Tom's and Cissy's. 
 
 Then Tom left them and went homeward. He lived 
 with his mother and his sister in an old wooden house 
 in a side street not far from the steps they had just as- 
 cended. The other three boys lived farther down along the 
 Park. 
 
 When Tom reached the flight of wooden steps that rose 
 from the sidewalk to the rocky terrace above, where his 
 mother's house was, he stood still for a moment. Then he 
 gave the same whistle with which Cissy had greeted him when 
 he drew near the bonfire that afternoon : 
 
A WALK BY THE RIVER. 29 
 
 From over the houses and the little hills which separated 
 his home from Cissy's, he heard the answer : 
 
 m z=£&^~ m 
 
 Then the Captain of the Black Band and the Lieutenant 
 knew that all was well ; and they went in and went to sleep 
 with clear consciences. 
 
 The talk that evening had turned Tom's thoughts to a 
 search for the stolen gold, and he dreamed of finding it in a 
 cave like the one the Forty Thieves lived in. But in the mid- 
 dle of his desperate struggle with six ferocious robbers (one 
 of whom had only one arm) there came a tap on his door, and 
 he waked with a start. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PAULINE AND THE CAREFUL KATJE. 
 
 HE house in which Tom Paulding lived 
 with his mother and sister had origi- 
 nally been a small farmhouse. It had 
 been built just before the Revolution 
 and by Tom's great-grandfather, the 
 officer from whom the gold had been 
 stolen. It was a square wooden house 
 with gable-ends and with a door in the middle ; there was a 
 little porch before the door with a vine climbing by the white 
 wooden pillars. Originally it had stood on a knoll, overlooking 
 the broad acres of the farm as they sloped down to the river. 
 When the streets were regularly laid out through that part of 
 the city, making the upper portion of Manhattan Island as like 
 as possible to a flat gridiron, a lower level was chosen than 
 that of the house. The stony hill was cut through, and the 
 house now stood high on a bluff, rising sheer and jagged above 
 the sidewalk. A flight of wooden steps led from the street to 
 the top of the knoll ; and thence a short walk paved with well- 
 worn flagstones stretched to the front door. The house had 
 
PAULINE AND THE CAKEFUL KATIE. 31 
 
 been so planted on the hill that it might command the most 
 agreeable view ; but the streets had been driven past it 
 rigidly at right angles to the avenues, and so the house was 
 now " eater-cornered " across one end of a block. 
 
 In the century and a quarter since Nicholas Paulding had 
 bought a farm -and built him a house, the fortunes of his 
 children and grandchildren had risen and fallen. He himself 
 had been a paymaster in Washington's army ; and after the 
 Revolution he had prospered and enlarged his domain. But 
 as he grew old he made an unfortunate use of his money, 
 and when he died his estate w r as heavily involved. His son, 
 Wyllys Paulding (Tom's grandfather), had done what he 
 could to set in order the family affairs, but he died while 
 yet a young man and before he had succeeded in putting 
 their fortunes on a firm basis. Wyllys's son, Stuyvesant 
 (Tom's father), struggled long and unavailingTy. Like 
 Wyllys and like Nicholas, Stuyvesant Paulding was an 
 only child ; and Tom Paulding so far carried out this tradi- 
 tion of the family that he was an only son and had but one 
 sister. 
 
 Stuyvesant Paulding had died suddenly, when Tom w r as 
 about five years old, leaving his widow and his children 
 nothing but the house in w r hich they lived and the insurance 
 on his lif e. Bit by bit the farm had been sold to meet press- 
 ing debts, until at last there was left in the possession of 
 Nicholas Paulding's grandson but a very small portion of 
 the many acres Nicholas Paulding had owned — only the 
 house and the three city lots across which it stood. And 
 
32 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 upon these lots and the house there was a mortgage, the in- 
 terest on which Tom's mother often found it very hard to 
 meet. 
 
 Tom's mother was a cheerful little woman ; and she was 
 glad that she had a roof over her head, and that she was able 
 to bring up her children and give them an education. The 
 roof over her head was stanch, and the old house was as 
 sound as when it was built. Mrs. Paulding was very fond 
 of her home, and she used to tell Tom and Pauline that they 
 were perhaps the only boy and girl in all New York city 
 with its million and a half of inhabitants, who had been born 
 in a house built by their own great-grandfather. 
 
 The household was small ; it consisted of Mrs. Paulding, 
 Tom, his sister Pauline, and the Careful Katie. 
 
 Cissy Smith had once told Tom that Mrs. Paulding was 
 "the nicest old lady in the world," — and Tom had indig- 
 nantly denied that his mother was old. Perhaps she was not 
 old, but assuredly she was no longer young. She was a trim 
 little woman with a trim little figure. Her dark-brown hair 
 was turning gray under the widow's cap that she had worn 
 ever since Tom's father died. She was good-natured and 
 even-tempered ; her children had never seen her angry, how- 
 ever they might try her ; to them she was always cheery and 
 she seemed always hopeful. As far as she might have power, 
 the path of life should always be smooth before her chil- 
 dren's feet. 
 
 Tom Paulding was the second member of the family ; and 
 he often looked forward to the time when he should be a 
 
PAULINE AND THE CAREFUL KATIE. 33 
 
 man, that he might do something for his mother and for his 
 sister. 
 
 Tom called his sister "Polly," but her name really was 
 Pauline. She was nearly twelve years old, and she was 
 rather short for her years ; she kept hoping to be taller when 
 she was older. 
 
 " How can I ever feel grown up, if I have n't grown any ? " 
 she once asked her mother. 
 
 She was rather pretty, and she had light-brown hair, which 
 she wore down her back in a pigtail. To live in a house 
 with a little spare ground about it was to her a constant de- 
 light. One of the two trees which Nicholas Paulding had 
 planted before his door-step, an ample maple, now spread its 
 branches almost over the porch; and to this tree Pauline 
 had taken a great fancy when she was but a baby. She 
 called it lier tree ; and she used to go out and talk to it and 
 tell it her secrets. Tom had made her a seat on one side of 
 this tree ; and there she liked to sit with the cat and the kit- 
 ten. She was very fond of cats, and she had generally a 
 vagrant kitten or two, outcast and ragged, whom she was 
 feeding and petting. "With all animals she was friendly. 
 The goats which browsed the rocks on which stood Mrs. 
 Rafferty's shanty, two blocks above on Pauline's way to 
 school, knew her and walked contentedly by her side ; and 
 the old horse which was always stationed before the shanty, 
 attached to a decrepit cart labeled " Rafferty's Express," knew 
 Polly and would affably eat the apple she took from her 
 luncheon for him. The name of this old horse was " Daniel." 
 
34 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 There was not an animal anywhere on the line of Pauline's 
 daily- walk to and from school that did not know her and 
 love her. 
 
 The fourth member of the household, and in some respects 
 the most important, was the Careful Katie. She was a ro- 
 bust, hearty Irishwoman who had been in Mrs. Paulding's 
 service for years. She had come to the young couple when 
 Tom's father and mother were first married, and she had 
 remained with the family ever since. She had been Tom's 
 nurse and then she had been Polly's nurse. Now, in their 
 reduced circumstances, she was their only servant, strong 
 enough to do anything and willing to do everything. She 
 could cook excellently ; she was indefatigable in housework 
 and in the laundry ; she was a good nurse in sickness ; and 
 she had even attempted to raise a few vegetables, chiefly pota- 
 toes and beans, in the little plot of ground on one side of the 
 house. She was never tired and she was never cross. She 
 was a " Household Treasure," so said Mrs. Paulding, who also 
 wondered frequently how she could ever get on without her. 
 
 She had two defects only, and these in a measure neutral- 
 ized each other. The first was that she thought she wished 
 to go back to Ireland ; and so she gave Mrs. Paulding warn- 
 ing and made ready to depart about once every six weeks. 
 But she had never gone ; and Mrs. Paulding was beginning 
 to believe that she never would go. The second of her fail- 
 ings was that she was conscious of her long service, of her 
 affection for Mrs. Paulding and for the two children, and of 
 her fidelity ; and so she had come to accept herself as one of 
 
8mfi??SL , y- 
 
 ■trim 
 
 
 "TOM HAD MADE HER A SEAT ON ONE SIDE OF THIS TREE; AND THERE SHE LIKED 
 TO SIT WITH THE CAT AND THE KITTEN." 
 
PAULINE AND THE CAREFUL KATIE. 37 
 
 the family and to believe that she was therefore authorized 
 to rule the household with a rod of iron. She was so fond 
 of them all that she insisted on their doing what she thought 
 best for them, and not what they themselves might prefer. 
 There were times when the Careful Katie carried things with 
 so high a hand that Mrs. Paulding caught herself half wish- 
 ing that the attraction of Ireland might prove potent enough 
 to entice the child of Erin back to her native isle. 
 
 It remains to be recorded, moreover, that the Careful Katie 
 was very superstitious. She accepted everything as a sign or 
 a warning. She would never look over her left shoulder at 
 the new moon. She was prompt to throw salt over her right 
 shoulder, if by chance any were spilt while she was waiting 
 at table. She declared that a ring at the bell at midnight, 
 three nights running, foreboded a death in the family. 
 
 On the morning after election-day, the morning after the 
 Black Band had made Tom Paulding run the gantlet, and 
 had tied him to the stake, and had danced a scalp-dance 
 about him while he bravely chanted his defiant death-song, 
 the imitator of Hard-Heart and Uncas was late for breakfast. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding and Pauline were at table, and the Careful 
 Katie had placed the coffee-pot before his mother and the 
 plate of hot biscuit before his sister; and Tom's chair was 
 ready for him, but he had not yet appeared. 
 
 " It 's late Master Tom is," remarked the Irish member of 
 the family. " Will I caU him ? " 
 
 The Careful Katie was fond of hearing herself talk, and 
 she was always ready to take part in the conversation at the 
 
38 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 dinner-table ; but her use of the English language left some- 
 thing to be desired. 
 
 " Tom will be down in a minute," said Pauline ; "I knocked 
 on his door as I passed, and waked him up, and I kept on 
 knocking till I heard him get out of bed, and then he threw 
 a pillow at me down the stairs." 
 
 " An' who 's to be washin' that same pillow-case, I 'd like 
 to know? It is n't yous that '11 do it — it '11 be me, I 'm 
 thinkin'," said the Irishwoman. 
 
 " Katie," interposed Pauline, pausing in her breakfast, " if 
 you were a good girl, a real good girl, you would bring 
 ' Pussy ' up and ' Bobby,' and let me give them their break- 
 fast." 
 
 "An' where will I find Pussy? Bobby is quiet in the 
 kitchen with Ins feet to the fire like a gentleman ; but Pussy 
 does be out all night," replied Katie, adding, "Ah, but there 's 
 the cat now, sittin' outside the window here as easy as you 
 please." 
 
 " Then I '11 let her have her breakfast right away, if you 
 will please excuse me, Mama," cried Pauline, rising from the 
 table and pouring out a saucerful of milk. 
 
 She opened the window and called the cat, who came to 
 the sill and stood expectant. When Pauline was about to 
 set the saucer outside for Pussy to drink, the Careful Katie 
 saw what she was doing and rushed across the room. 
 
 " Miss Polly," she screamed, " never be doin' that ! It 's 
 main bad luck to pass vittles out o' the window to a Chris- 
 tian, let alone to a cat," 
 
PAULINE AND THE CAREFUL KATIE. 39 
 
 Mrs. Paulding looked up and smiled, and then quietly 
 went on eating her breakfast. 
 
 "Pauline," she said, presently, "your own breakfast will 
 be cold." 
 
 " But just see how hungry Pussy is," the little girl said as 
 she came back to table. 
 
 " I 've a sup of hot milk in the kitchen," remarked Katie, 
 " an' 1 11 get it for her. I Ve heard it 's lucky to feed a cat, 
 an' when I go back to the old country, — an' I'm goin' soon 
 now, — I hope a black cat will walk in for a visit, the very 
 first day I 'm home again." And with this, she took Pussy 
 in through the window and went out into the kitchen. 
 
 " Sometimes I wonder how I should get along without 
 Katie," said Mrs. Paulding, " and then, when she frightens 
 you as she did just now, and overrides us all, I almost wish 
 she would go back to Ireland." 
 
 " We should never get another like her," Pauline declared, 
 " and she is so good to the pussies." 
 
 " I believe you think of them first," her mother said, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " The poor things can't speak for themselves, Mama," the 
 little girl responded ; " somebody must think for them." 
 
 The clock on the mantel struck eight. 
 
 " Tom will be late," said Mrs. Paulding. 
 
 "No, he won't," cried her son, as he hastily entered the 
 room. He kissed his mother, and then he took his seat at 
 the table. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 
 
 RS. PAULDING watched Tom eat about 
 half of his bowl of oatmeal. Then she 
 asked gently, " How is it you were late, 
 my son ? " 
 
 " I overslept myself," Tom answered, 
 " and when Polly knocked at the door I 
 was having a wonderful dream. 
 " It was about everything all mixed up, just as it is gen- 
 erally in dreams," went on Tom, "but it began with my 
 floating around the room. I often dream I can float about 
 in the air just as naturally as walking on the floor; and, 
 in my dream, when I float around, nobody seems at all 
 surprised, any more than if it was the most ordinary thing 
 to do. 
 
 " I dreamed that I floated out to Mount Vesuvius, where 
 there was an eruption going on and the flames were pouring 
 out of the crater. There I heard cries of distress, and I found 
 seven great genies had tied a fairy to a white marble altar, 
 and they were dancing about her, and making ready to stone 
 
AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 41 
 
 her with sticky lumps of red-hot lava. So I floated over to 
 her and asked her what I could do for her — " 
 
 " Did n't the seven evil spirits see you ? " interrupted 
 Polly. 
 
 "They didn't in the dream," Tom answered, "though now 
 I don't understand why they did n't." 
 
 " Perhaps the fairy had made you invisible," explained his 
 sister. 
 
 "That may have been the way," Tom admitted. "So I 
 floated over to the altar and I asked what I could do for her, 
 and she whispered to stoop down and try if I could see three 
 flat stones in the ground — " 
 
 " Did you see them ? " interrupted Polly again. 
 
 " I did," said Tom ; " and if you 11 just let me go on, you '11 
 get to the end of this story a sight sooner." 
 
 " I won't say another word," Pauline said. 
 
 " The three flat stones were just under my feet," said Tom. 
 " The fairy told me to lift the center stone and she said that 
 I should find under it a large copper ring — " 
 
 " And did y " began Polly. " Oh ! " and she suddenly 
 
 stopped. 
 
 " She told me to pull on the ring and I would find an iron 
 box," Tom went on, " and in that box was a beautiful silver- 
 mounted, seven-shot revolver loaded with seven magic bullets 
 with which I was to kill the seven genies. So I took the re- 
 volver and I shot the seven genies, one after the other ; and 
 then I released the fairy." 
 
 " What did she give you ? " asked Polly, eagerly. 
 
42 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " If you don't say a word," Tom continued, " I will inform 
 you that she gave me three wishes." 
 
 " What did you wish for ? " Polly asked at once. " I know 
 what I should like. I 'd ask for a little bag containing all 
 the things they have in fairy stories — a cap that makes you 
 invisible, and shoes that make you go fast, and a carpet to 
 carry you through the air, and all the things of that sort. 
 You see it is always so awkward to have the wrong tilings ; 
 for instance, when there 's a great, big, green dragon coming 
 to eat you up and you want to be invisible all at once and in 
 a hurry, it is n't any use having a purse that is always full 
 of money. I should ask for them all — and if she was a real 
 generous fairy, she 'd count that as only one wish." 
 
 When his sister had finished this long speech, Tom was 
 calmly eating the last of his oatmeal. She looked at him 
 and cried : 
 
 " Tom, you are just too aggravoking for anything. What 
 were your three wishes ? " 
 
 " I don't know," answered Tom. 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Pauline. 
 
 " Because," Tom responded, leisurely, " you interrupted me 
 in my dream exactly as you did just now. That was as far 
 as I 'd got when you waked me up." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " said Polly. " If I 'd known you were going to 
 have three wishes, I would n't have called you for anything 
 in the world. What were you going to wish for ? " she went 
 on. " Don't you remember now ? " 
 
 " I don't know what I should have wished for in the dream," 
 
AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 43 
 
 Tom answered ; " but I know what I should wish for now, 
 if a real, live, sure-enough fairy gave me one wish. I 'd wish 
 that mother's income were just twice as big as it is, so that 
 she should n't have to worry about the mortgage and our 
 clothes and my education." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding held oat her hand, and Tom gave it a 
 squeeze. 
 
 "You would be glad to have that Purse of Fortunatus 
 that Pauline despised so," she said. " And so should I. The 
 mortgage does bother me, now and then, — and there are 
 other things, too. I wish I had enough to let you study en- 
 gineering, since your mind is made up that you would like 
 that best." 
 
 " My mind is made up that I 'd like best to be an engineer, 
 if I could," Tom responded ; " but I sha'n't complain a bit if 
 I have to go into a store next year." 
 
 " I hope that I shall at least be able to keep you at school," 
 said his mother. 
 
 " I 'd like to study for a profession, mother, as you know," 
 he went on ; " but I 'm not willing to have you worry 
 about it." 
 
 " I think I 'd like to study for a profession, too," inter- 
 rupted Pauline. "I 'd like to learn doctory. We begin 
 physiology next term, and they have a real skeleton for that 
 — ugh ! it will be great fun." 
 
 " You need not shiver in anticipation," said her mother, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 "Tom," Polly asked, seriously, "did you ever have con- 
 
44 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 vulsions? You know I did — and when I was only two 
 years old, too. So when we girls get a-talking over the 
 things we Ve all had, measles and mumps, and they find 
 out I have n't had whooping-cough, — why, then I just tell 
 them I Ve had convulsions ; and they have n't, not one of 
 them." 
 
 " Mother," said Tom, who had been thinking quietly while 
 his sister rattled on, " you told me once about some money 
 that my great-grandfather lost. Did n't anybody ever try to 
 find it?" 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Paulding answered. "Your grandfather 
 made a great search for it, so your father told me ; and at 
 one time he thought he was very ' warm,' as children say, 
 but he suddenly seemed to lose all interest in it, and gave 
 over the hunt all at once." 
 
 "Why?" asked Tom, eagerly. 
 
 " I don't know why," answered Mrs. Paulding ; " nor did 
 your father know, either." 
 
 " How did my great-grandfather lose the money ? " Tom 
 continued. 
 
 " It was stolen from him," replied his mother. " He was 
 a paymaster in Washington's army ; and when the British 
 captured New York, the American army retreated up the 
 island and held the upper part. A large sum of money had 
 been paid to your great-grandfather — or rather he had raised 
 it on his own property, for I believe that the stolen gold was 
 his own and not the government's." 
 
 "And when was it stolen?" asked Tom. 
 
AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 45 
 
 " I think I heard your father say that it was taken from 
 his grandfather during the night — during the night before 
 the battle of Harlem Plains." 
 
 "That was in 1776," said Tom, "in September. Our 
 teacher told us all about it only two or three weeks ago. 
 And it was fought just around the corner from here, between 
 Morningside Park and Central Park. Was Nicholas Pauld- 
 ing robbed during the fight ? " 
 
 " Really, my son," responded Mrs. Paulding, " I know very 
 little about it. Your father rarely spoke of it ; it seemed to 
 be a sore subject with him. But I think the robbery took 
 place late that evening, after the battle was over, — or it may 
 have been the night before." 
 
 "Who was the robber?" asked Tom. "They know who 
 he was, don't they ? " 
 
 " Yes," said his mother, " I think it is known who took the 
 money. He was a deserter from our army. His name was 
 Kerr, or Carr. He disappeared and the money was missing 
 at the same time." 
 
 " Did n't you say once that the thief was never heard of 
 after the stealing ? " said Tom. 
 
 " That is what I have always understood," his mother de- 
 clared. " The man left our army and was never seen again. 
 After the war your grandfather made a carefid search for 
 him, but he could find no trace." 
 
 " Did n't the British receive him when he ran away ? I 
 thought the armies in that war were always glad to receive 
 deserters from the other side." 
 
40 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I think he never reached the British at all." 
 
 " Then what did become of him ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " That is the mystery," replied his mother. " It was a 
 mystery to your great-grandfather at the time and when the 
 war was over ; and it seems to have puzzled and interested 
 your grandfather, too, at least for a while." 
 
 " It interests me," Tom declared. " I like puzzles. I wish 
 I knew more about this one." 
 
 " There are a lot of papers of your grandfather's, maps 
 and letters and scraps of old newspapers, somewhere in an 
 old box where your grandfather put them more than fifty 
 years ago," said Mrs. Paulding. 
 
 "And where is that box now?" was Tom's eager question. 
 
 " I think that it is in one of the old trunks in the attic," 
 Mrs. Paulding replied. 
 
 Before Tom could say anything more, a shrill whistle was 
 heard. 
 
 " There 's the postman ! " cried Pauline, jumping up from 
 the breakfast-table. "I hope he has brought a letter for 
 me ! " 
 
 The Careful Katie entered and gave Mrs. Paulding a let- 
 ter, saying, "It 's a new letter-man, this one, and he says 
 he ought to have left this letter yesterday. More fool he, 
 say I." 
 
 With that she took the coffee-pot from the table and went 
 out of the room again. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding looked at the handwriting for a moment 
 and said, " It is from Mr. Duncan." Then she opened it and 
 
AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. 47 
 
 glanced at the signature and exclaimed, " Yes, it is from Mr. 
 Duncan. I wonder what he has to say." 
 
 Tom knew that Mr. Duncan was a lawyer, and an old 
 friend of the family, and that he had always advised Mrs. 
 Paulding in business affairs. As his mother read, Tom 
 watched her face. When she had finished the letter she let 
 it fall in her lap. 
 
 "Well, mother," he asked, "have you received bad news?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "bad news indeed. Mr. Duncan 
 writes that the gentleman who holds the mortgage on the 
 house wishes us to pay it off soon, and Mr. Duncan is afraid 
 that we shall not be able to get as much from anybody else." 
 
 " Well, suppose we don't ? " Tom inquired. 
 
 " Then we shall have to sell this house and move away," 
 said Mrs. Paulding; and she sank back in the chair, and 
 with difficulty kept back her tears. 
 
 Pauline, who had been a silent spectator, walked over and 
 put her arms about her mother. " How soon shall we have 
 to go ? " she asked. 
 
 " I hope we shall not have to go at all," Mrs. Paulding 
 answered. " Mr. Duncan says that we have several months 
 before us to see what we can do. Perhaps the mortgagee 
 won't want his money before that time." 
 
 " Or perhaps Uncle Dick will come back with lots and lots 
 of money," suggested Pauline. 
 
 "Mother," said Tom, suddenly, while he strapped up his 
 school-books, " would you let me look at that box of papers 
 — about that stolen gold?" 
 
48 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Certainly, my son, if you would like to see them," she 
 answered. 
 
 "How much money was it that my great-grandfather 
 lost?" he asked. 
 
 "I don't know exactly. I think I once told you as much 
 as the thief could carry comfortably — about two thousand 
 pounds, perhaps." 
 
 " Whew ! That 's ten thousand dollars ! " exclaimed Tom, 
 as he bade her good-by before going to school. " Don't 
 worry about that mortgage. I l m going to see if we can't 
 get back some of that stolen money. Nobody knows where 
 it is, and I may be lucky enough to find out. At any rate, I 
 mean to try." 
 
2 M GOING TO SEE IF WE CAN T GET BACK SOME OF THAT STuLdN 
 MONEY,' SAID TOM." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BOX OF PAPERS. 
 
 OWEVER much men may differ in the 
 five quarters of the globe, boys are alike 
 the world over. Wherever they may be 
 born, and whatever be their bringing up, 
 the quality of boyishness is sure to be 
 in all of them. When the little cock- 
 ney lad in the dark lanes of London hears the sound of 
 Bow Pells, he cannot help sometimes putting himself in the 
 place of Whittington, and, by sheer force of make-believe, 
 succeeds in owning a cat, and in disposing of it for a high 
 price to the Barbary king. No doubt the little Arab of Bag- 
 dad plays at Haroun al Raschid, and makes up out of his 
 own head a tale of which he is the hero — one that in unex- 
 pectedness of adventure and in variety of incident far sur- 
 passes any told by the fair Scheherazade to the cruel Sultan 
 in the watches of the " Thousand and One Nights." 
 
 So it is no wonder that the boys of America delight in be- 
 ing Indians. The condition of the streets and parks near 
 the house where Tom Paulding lived was very well adapted 
 
52 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 for redskin raids, sudden ambushes, and long scouts after a 
 retreating tribe of hostiles. Rarely a week passed that the 
 Black Band did not go upon the war-path. And it was 
 therefore with no surprise that Tom was called upon by Cissy 
 Smith and Corkscrew Lott, the next Saturday morning, and 
 was by them bidden to hurry over to Morningside Park as 
 soon after dinner as he could. 
 
 Tom was kept busy at school during all the week ; and 
 Saturday was the only day when he really had any time to 
 himself. In the morning he had usually a few errands to 
 run for his mother and a few chores to do about the house. 
 The afternoon was always his own. 
 
 " What are you going to do to-day?" asked Tom. 
 
 " We 've got a mighty good idea," Cissy replied. " We are 
 going over to Morningside to play the ' Death of Custer in 
 the Lava Beds.' " 
 
 " That is a good scheme," Tom said. " Whose was it?" 
 
 "Harry Zachary suggested it," answered Smith. "He 
 said that, if we did, we could have a bully massacree, and 
 that we could pretend to kill them all off one by one." 
 
 "Harry has first-rate notions about a good fight," Tom 
 declared. " I 'd like to join in, but I can't." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Corkscrew. 
 
 " Well," said Tom, with a sense of the importance of the 
 disclosure he was about to make, " I have some business to 
 attend to. You remember that stolen gold I said belonged 
 to us if we could only find it ? " 
 
 "Yes," Cissy replied. 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. 53 
 
 " Have you found out where it is ? " asked Lott, eagerly. 
 
 " No," Tom answered ; " at least not yet. But my mother 
 has given me all the papers — a whole box full of them — and 
 I 'm going over them this afternoon." 
 
 " Shucks ! " said Cissy, scornfully. " If you don't know 
 where the gold is, what 's the use of looking for it ? " 
 
 " I hope to find a clue — that 's what the detectives call it, 
 is n't it ? " Tom responded. 
 
 "All the clues you find," returned Cissy, "you can clue 
 yourself up with ! You had better come over to Morning- 
 side, instead of staying at home looking at old papers." 
 
 " What sort of papers are they ? " inquired Lott. " News- 
 papers f " 
 
 " All sorts," Tom replied ; " newspapers and old letters 
 and reports ; lots and lots of them. I have n't sorted them 
 out yet, but they seem to be very interesting." 
 
 "Would you like me to come around and help you?" 
 asked Lott. 
 
 " No," responded Tom, " I am going to find that gold my- 
 self, if it 's to be found at all." 
 
 " I don't believe it 's to be found at all," said Cissy. " I 
 don't believe there ever was any to be found anywhere. This 
 is just a sort of ghost-story they are fooling you with. I '11 
 tell you what you had better do. You come over with us 
 this afternoon, and we '11 let you be Custer." 
 
 This was a temptation to Tom, end for a moment he 
 wavered. 
 
 " We 'd let you be the Indian Chief, Rain-in-the-Face," 
 
54 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Cissy went on, noticing Tom's hesitation, " but Harry said, 
 as he 'd suggested it, he thought he ought to be the Indian 
 chief and lead in the scalping. But you can be Custer, if 
 you '11 come." 
 
 " 1 'd like to," answered Tom, who had made up his mind 
 now, " but I can't. I 'm going over these papers this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " If you find out anything, will you tell me ? " Lott inquired. 
 
 "I '11 see," was Tom's response. 
 
 " He '11 tell you all he finds out," declared Cissy, as he rolled 
 away, " and so could I — for he won't find out anything. As 
 I said before, I don't believe there 's anything to find out." 
 
 This discouraging remark was intended for Tom's ear, and 
 it had its due effect. Tom had a great respect for Cissy 
 Smith's judgment. For a few seconds he wondered whether 
 it was really worth while to give up a beautiful day just to 
 turn over a lot of dusty old papers in the wild hope of find- 
 ing something which the owner of the papers had ceased to 
 seek long before he died. 
 
 But he had made his choice and he stuck to it. After the 
 midday dinner of the family, Tom's resolve was fixed as if it 
 had never faltered. His mother had given him permission 
 to take the box of papers from a trunk in the attic where it 
 had been ever since the death of Nicholas Paulding; and 
 early in the morning he had gone up and opened the trunk 
 and lifted out the box. As soon as he had finished his din- 
 ner, he went upstairs to his own room and locked his door. 
 Then he emptied out upon his bed all the papers in the box. 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. 55 
 
 The tumbled heap was about a foot high, aud it contained 
 one hundred and twenty-seven separate pieces. There were 
 letters of his great-grandfather's. There were letters from 
 and to his grandfather. There were copies of official docu- 
 ments. There were newspapers, and there were single 
 articles cut from newspapers. There were old maps, marked 
 over with notes in Wyllys Paulding's handwriting. There 
 was a pamphlet printed in London in 1116, and giving a full 
 and detailed account of the taking of New York by His 
 Majesty's Forces. There were several old magazines with 
 descriptions of the events which preceded and followed the 
 battle of Harlem Heights. This pamphlet and these maga- 
 zines contained notes in red ink by the hand of Wyllys 
 Paulding. Most important of all was a statement, addressed 
 in the handwriting of Tom's great-grandfather, in which 
 Nicholas told his son the whole story of the stolen guineas. 
 
 Tom wondered why it was that his grandfather, having 
 taken so much interest in the search for the stolen gold, 
 should have abandoned it suddenly. This wonder, strong in 
 the beginning, kept coming back again and again as Tom 
 pursued his quest ; and it grew stronger with every return. 
 A day was to come when Tom would understand why his 
 grandfather had so suddenly given up the search. For the 
 time, and for a long while afterward, Tom could see no 
 reason for this strange action. 
 
 With the aid of the statement Nicholas Paulding had 
 written for Wyllys Paulding, the grandson of the latter was 
 able to learn the exact circumstances under which the money 
 
5G TOM PAULDING. 
 
 had disappeared. Tom had to puzzle out and piece together, 
 but at last he got at all the facts so far as it was possible to 
 discover them. 
 
 Here, then, is an orderly account of events from the time 
 the treasure came into the possession of Nicholas Paulding 
 to the hour of its disappearance and the disappearance of 
 the man who had stolen it : 
 
 When General Washington had his headquarters in New 
 York, after the battle of Long Island, Nicholas Paulding 
 mortgaged his houses and lots near the Battery for the large 
 sum of two thousand guineas. He had great difficulty in 
 getting any one to lend him the money. In those troublous 
 times, when none knew what might be the future of the 
 colonies, few men were willing to part with the gold in their 
 possession. At last, however, Nicholas Paulding found a 
 man willing to let him have the money on his bond and 
 mortgage. This man was a newly arrived German, and his 
 name was Horwitz — Simon Horwitz. He was very particu- 
 lar about the form of the papers; and even after all the 
 papers had been drawn up to his complete satisfaction, he 
 delayed the payment of the money. It was not until Satur- 
 day, September 14, 1776, when the Continental army was 
 leaving New York, and when the patriots were nocking out 
 of the city, knowing that the British might take possession 
 at any hour — it was not until then that Simon Horwitz 
 finally accepted the bond and mortgage of Nicholas Pauld- 
 ing and paid over the two thousand guineas. 
 
 Nicholas Paulding was a very young man, barely of age. 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. 59 
 
 He had been at King's College (as Columbia College was 
 then called) with Alexander Hamilton, and he was scarcely 
 second to that great man in devotion to the cause of his 
 country. He had early enrolled himself in Washington's 
 army, and he had been chosen to act as paymaster of a New 
 York regiment. The post was honorable but laborious, for 
 the soldiers would expect their pay regularly and there was 
 little money in the treasury. It was as his contribution to 
 the cost of the straggle for liberty that Nicholas Paulding 
 had borrowed two thousand guineas on the security of his 
 homestead. He intended to devote the money to the pay- 
 ment of the men in his regiment as there might be need. 
 
 As soon as he had counted the coins received from Simon 
 Horwitz, Nicholas Paulding tied them up in foiu" canvas 
 bags, sealing the knots with wax, on which he impressed his 
 seal. Then he concealed these bags about his person as best 
 he could. He was a stalwart man, of full stature and un- 
 usual strength for his years, but the weight of these bags 
 must have been an inconvenient burden. Two thousand 
 guineas would be worth more than ten thousand dollars ; 
 they would be in bulk a little more than a thousand solid 
 eagles ; and they would weigh not far from forty pounds. 
 
 Early on the morning of Sunday, September 15, the day 
 after Nicholas Paulding had received his money, three British 
 men-of-war sailed boldly by the Battery and entered the Hud- 
 son River. Every one knew then that the city was doomed 
 to fall into the hands of the King's forces in a few hours. 
 The American troops made ready to retreat, and there were 
 
60 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 none to oppose the landing of the British soldiers as they 
 crossed from Long Island under cover of the fire of the fleet, 
 Nicholas Paulding was with some men who made a stand 
 against a regiment of Hessians in the fields across which ran 
 the Boston Road (near what is now the corner of Third 
 Avenue and Twenty- third Street). Then the Americans fell 
 back and joined the main body of the Continental army re- 
 tiring on Harlem Heights. The rain poured in torrents, and 
 there sprang up a chill wind. The men of Paulding's regi- 
 ment were footsore from their long march when they halted 
 for the night a little above Bloomingdale, and not far from 
 the eight-mile stone. 
 
 They found small comfort in their hasty camp, a smoky 
 fire of damp wood, what food they had with them and no 
 more, — >iio tents and no blankets. Upon the sodden earth 
 they laid them down to sleep ; and despite the raging of the 
 storm, most of them were so tired that they slept soundly. 
 
 With his fellow-officers, Nicholas Paulding had done his 
 share in seeing to the safety and the comfort of his men. 
 After the sentries were placed, he joined his companions in 
 consultation as to the work for the next day. Then he went 
 to the place set apart for him, before a smoking fire beaten 
 by the pelting rain ; and there he lay down to sleep, if he 
 could. A man named Jeffrey Kerr had been serving as pay- 
 master's clerk, and to this fellow Nicholas Paulding had con- 
 fided the fact that he had two thousand guineas concealed 
 about his person. This Kerr was lying before the camp-fire, 
 apparently asleep, when Nicholas Paulding settled himself 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. 61 
 
 for the night ; the clerk was wrapped in a huge, loose surtout 
 with enormous pockets. 
 
 How long Nicholas Paulding slept he did not know, but 
 he remembered a faint dream of a capture by brigands who 
 felt about his body and robbed him of his treasure. When 
 he slowly awakened, he was being turned from his side over 
 to his back, and some one was loosening the belt which sus- 
 tained the bags of guineas. The night was blacker than ever, 
 and the rain was pouring down in sheets. Still almost asleep, 
 he resisted drowsily and gripped the belt with his hands. 
 When the belt was pulled from his grasp, he awoke and 
 sprang to his feet. In the black darkness before him he could 
 see nothing ; but his hand, extended at a venture, clasped a 
 rough coat. 
 
 Then there came a dazzling flash of lightning, and Nicholas 
 Paulding found himself face to face with the man Kerr, who 
 had hold of the belt and the four pendent bags of treasure. 
 The two men were almost in the center of the storm ; the 
 lightning had struck a tree between them and the British 
 troops; but before the clap of thunder followed the flash, 
 Jeffrey Kerr smote the man he was trying to rob and forced 
 him to let go the coat. Wli ether Kerr had seized a limb of a 
 tree lying there ready for the fire, or whether he had used as 
 a weapon the belt itself with the treasure-bags attached, the 
 robbed man never knew. 
 
 Nicholas Paulding was stunned for a moment, but he soon 
 recovered and gave the alarm. As the thief passed the sentry 
 he was fired at, but in the dense darkness the shot went wide 
 
G2 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 of its mark, and Kerr rushed on through the lines of the 
 American army. 
 
 He was familiar with the region. He had been a clerk 
 with Colonel Morris at the Red Mill, and knew every foot of 
 that part of Manhattan Island. It was well for him that he 
 did, else he never could have escaped from his pursuers, in 
 spite of the blackness of the night. He was within thirty 
 yards of a second sentry when another flash of lightning 
 revealed him again. 
 
 The soldier fired at once. There was a slight cry of pain ; 
 but the man could not have been wounded severely, since 
 Nicholas Paulding, with a company of the men of his regi- 
 ment, carefully examined the ground where Kerr had stood 
 at the moment of filing, and thence down a hundred yards 
 or so, to a little brook, which divided the lines of the Ameri- 
 cans from the British, and across which it was not safe to 
 venture, even if the rain-storm had not so swollen the stream 
 as to make a crossing dangerous in the darkness. 
 
 And after that hour Nicholas Paulding had no news of his 
 treasure, and no man ever laid eyes on Jeffrey Ken*. 
 
 The morning following the robbery, there was fought the 
 Battle of Harlem Heights, which was a decided victory for 
 the Continental army. 
 
 Encouraged greatly by the result of this fight, the Ameri- 
 can forces lay intrenched on Harlem Heights for three weeks, 
 facing the British troops, separated from them by barely 
 three hundred yards, the width of the little valley of Manhat- 
 tanville. During these three weeks, Nicholas Paulding made 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. 03 
 
 every possible search for the man who had robbed him, but 
 without learning' anything. From prisoners taken during 
 the Battle of Harlem Heights he inquired whether any de- 
 serter had been received in the British lines on the night of 
 September 15, but he could hear of none. 
 
 A month later most of Washington's army was marched 
 away from Manhattan Island, to do its part in the long and 
 bloody struggle of the Revolution. 
 
 For seven years Nicholas Paulding did not set foot in the 
 city of New York, which was held for George III. until the 
 close of the war. 
 
 When the cause of the patriots had triumphed, and the 
 British troops had departed, Nicholas Paulding seems to have 
 made but few inquiries after his stolen guineas. Apparently, 
 in the wanderings and hardships of the Continental army, 
 he had made up his mind that the money was gone and that 
 any further effort was useless. Besides, he did not feel any 
 pressing need of it, as he made money after the war was 
 over, being able to buy lands and to build the house where 
 his descendants were to live during the most of the next 
 century. 
 
 But early in this century, when Wyllys, Nicholas Paulding's 
 only son and Tom's grandfather, was nearing manhood, the 
 tide of fortune turned and several successive investments 
 were most unfortunate. Long before the War of 1812 the 
 lost two thousand guineas would have been very welcome 
 again. Even then Nicholas Paulding seemed to take little 
 interest in the quest — at least all the correspondence was 
 
U4 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 carried on by Wyllys. The statement of the circumstances 
 of the robbery written by Nicholas bore an indorsement that 
 it was drawn up " at the Special Request of my Son, Wyllys 
 Paulding", Esq." 
 
 The first thing Wyllys Paulding tried to do was to hunt 
 down Jeffrey Kerr ; but he had no better luck than his father. 
 Tom found among the papers two letters which showed how 
 carefully Wyllys had conducted the search. One was from 
 the British officer who had commanded the King's troops en- 
 camped opposite the regiment in which Nicholas Paulding 
 served on the night of Sunday, September 15, 1776. This 
 letter was dated London, October 10, 1810 ; and in it the 
 British officer declared that he remembered distinctly the 
 night before the Battle of Harlem Heights, and that he was 
 certain that if a deserter had entered their lines that night he 
 would surely recall it ; but he had no such recollection ; and 
 on looking in the journal which he had kept all through the 
 war, from his landing in New York to the surrender at Sara- 
 toga, he found no account there of any deserter having come 
 in on the night in question ; and he felt certain, therefore, 
 that Kerr had not been received by liis Majesty's forces. This 
 letter was indorsed, in Wyllys's handwriting : 
 
 " A Courteous Epistle : the Writer, having survived the 
 seven years of the Revolution and the Continental Wars of 
 Buonaparte, was killed at the Battle of New Orleans." 
 
 The second of these letters was from a clergyman at New 
 London, evidently a very old man, judging by the shaky 
 handwriting. It was dated February 22, 1811. The writer 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. G5 
 
 declared that lie had known Jeffrey Kerr as a boy in New 
 London, where he was born, and that even as a boy Kerr 
 was not trusted. His fellow-townsmen had been greatly sur- 
 prised when they heard in 177G that he was appointed pay- 
 master's clerk, and they had remarked then that it was just 
 the position he would have chosen for himself. The news of 
 his robbery of his superior and of his flight had caused no 
 wonder; it was exactly what was expected. Kerr had not 
 been seen by any of his townsmen since he had left New 
 London to join the army, and nothing had ever been heard 
 of him. There was a general belief that he was dead ; and 
 this ripened into certainty when the wife he had left behind 
 him inherited a fortune and he never came back to share it 
 with her. The wife was firmly convinced that she was a 
 widow ; and so, in 1787, she had married again. 
 
 Upon this letter Wyllys Paulding had indorsed, " Can the 
 man have been shot the night he stole the money ? We know 
 he did not reach the British lines, and now we are told that 
 he never returned home, though he had every reason to do 
 so. Well, if he be dead, where is our money ? " 
 
 Among the other papers were cuttings from Rivington's 
 New York Gazetteer or the Connecticut, New Jersey, Hudson's 
 River and Quebec Weekly Advertiser; a folded sheet of paper 
 on which was written "Notes of Horwitz's confession, Dec. 
 13, 1811," but which was blank on the other side (nor could 
 Tom find any writing that might seem to belong within the 
 cover of this paper) ; a letter from a fellow-officer of Nicholas 
 Paulding's who was with him on the night of the robbery and 
 
GO TOM PAULDING. 
 
 who set forth the circumstances very much as Nicholas him- 
 self had already recorded them ; and, most important of all, 
 a rough outline map of the positions of the American and 
 British troops on the night of September 15, 1776. This 
 map had been sketched from memory by Nicholas Paulding, 
 whose name it bore, with the date January, 1810. 
 
 On this map Nicholas had marked in red ink his own 
 position when he was robbed, and the positions of the two 
 sentries who had fired at Jeffrey as the thief fled in the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 There were many other papers in the box besides those 
 here mentioned, but the most of them did not seem to have 
 anything to do with the stolen money. 
 
 There were not a few letters in answer to inquiries about 
 Jeffrey Kerr; there were many newspapers and cuttings 
 from newspapers ; and there were all sorts of odds and ends, 
 memoranda, and stray notes — such, for instance, as a calcu- 
 lation of the exact weight of two thousand guineas. 
 
 Tom went through them all, laying aside those which 
 seemed to contain anything of importance. When he had 
 examined every paper in the heap on his bed, he had two 
 piles of documents before him : one was large and contained 
 the less important papers and newspapers; the other was 
 smaller, as it held only those of real importance. 
 
 Tom took the papers in the smaller heap and set out to 
 arrange them in order by their dates. 
 
 When this was done he made a curious discovery. They 
 were all the work of little more than two years. 
 
THE BOX OF PAPERS. (57 
 
 Wyllys Paulding seemed to have started out to search late 
 in 1809 — and there was no document of any kind bearing 
 date in 1812. Although he had not found what he was seek- 
 ing and what he had sought most diligently at least for two 
 years, it seemed as if he had suddenly tired and desisted from 
 his quest. 
 
 So it was when Tom Paulding went to bed that night he 
 had three questions to which he could find no answers : 
 
 I. What became of Jeffrey Kerr ? 
 
 II. If Kerr was killed, what became of the two thousand 
 guineas ? 
 
 III. Why did Wyllys Paulding suddenly abandon all effort 
 to find the stolen money ? 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CAKES AND A COMPOSITION. 
 
 EVERAL successive Saturday afternoons 
 Tom Paulding devoted to the box of old 
 papers, carefully going over every letter 
 twice or thrice, that he might make sure 
 V ^ijR'<£? f its full meaning and of its exact bear- 
 ing on the problems to be solved. With 
 like industry he read through the old newspapers and the 
 cuttings therefrom which made up more than half the con- 
 tents of the box. In these newspapers Tom found nothing 
 relating to his investigation ; but he discovered much in 
 them that was amusing ; and the glimpse of old New York 
 they gave seemed to him so strange that Tom began to take 
 interest in the early history of his native city. The more 
 thoroughly he came to know the annals of New York, the 
 prouder he was that he and his had been New-Yorkers for 
 five generations at least. 
 
 One Saturday morning, early in December, about a month 
 after Mrs. Paulding had given her son permission to take 
 the box of old papers, Tom was going out to get his mother 
 the ingredients for a batch of cakes she had to bake for a 
 
CAKES AND A COMPOSITION. 09 
 
 customer. Mrs. Paulding was fond of cooking, and she 
 made delicious broths and jellies; but her special gift was 
 for baking cake. When the New York Exchange for 
 Woman's Work was opened, Mrs. Paulding sent to it for sale 
 a Washington pie, made after a receipt which had been a 
 tradition in the family, even before the days of Mrs. Nicholas 
 Paulding, Tom's great-grandmother. The purchaser of this 
 delicacy was so delighted with it that she went again to the 
 exchange and asked for another. So in time it came about 
 that Mrs. Paulding was one of the ladies who eke out a slen- 
 der income by making soups, jellies, and cakes to order for 
 the customers of this Woman's Exchange. 
 
 In this pleasant labor Tom and Pauline were always 
 anxious to aid. Polly had much of her mother's lightness of 
 touch, and was already well skilled as a maker of what she 
 chose to call " seedaway cake," — because it was thus that she 
 first had tried to name a cake flavored with caraway seeds. 
 Tom had no liking for the kitchen, but he was glad to do 
 what chores he could and to run all his mother's errands. 
 Besides, Mrs. Paulding, with motherly forethought, was wont 
 to contrive that there should be left over, now and again, 
 small balls of dough, which she molded in little tins and 
 baked for Tom and for Polly. These, however, were acci- 
 dental delights to which they looked forward whenever their 
 mother had a lot of cakes to make. 
 
 The Careful Katie did not always approve of Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing's invasion of her kitchen to make cake for others ; but 
 she always was pleased to see the little cakes which might lie 
 
70 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 a-baking in a corner of the oven as a treat for Tom and for 
 PoHy. 
 
 " It 's a sweet tooth they have, both o 1 the childer," she said. 
 
 Polly had just called to her brother, " Oh, Tom, don't go 
 out till you have given me that 'rithmetic of yours ! " 
 
 " All right," answered her brother. 
 
 Just then Katie left the room, and Polly again delayed 
 Tom's departure. 
 
 "When you were little," she said, "and Katie used to say 
 you had a sweet tooth in your head, did it make you open 
 your mouth, and feel your teeth, and wonder why she said 
 you had only one ? Because I did, — and I used to be afraid 
 that perhaps if I ate too much cake I might lose my sweet 
 tooth and not be able to taste it any more." 
 
 "You did lose all that set of sweet teeth, my dear," re- 
 marked Mrs. Paulding, smiling at Polly, as she weighed out 
 the powdered sugar for her frosting. 
 
 " But I 've got a new set of them," Polly replied, " and I 'm 
 sure that I like cake now more than ever." 
 
 " There was one of Katie's sayings that used to worry me," 
 said Tom ; " and that was when she pretended to be tired of 
 talking to us, and declared that she would n't waste her 
 breath on us. That made me think that perhaps we had 
 only just so much breath each, and that if we wasted it when 
 we were young, we should n't have any left when we were 
 grown up — " 
 
 " I used to think that too," interrupted Pauline. 
 
 "And I thought that it would be horrible.'' continued her 
 
CAKES AND A COMPOSITION. 71 
 
 brother, " to be an old man, and not be able to speak. So 
 when I went to bed, sometimes I used to save my breath, 
 keeping it in as long as I could." 
 
 " I wish I 'd thought of that," Polly declared. " But I 
 did n't. Now, where 's that 'rithmetic ? " she added, seeing 
 that her brother had again started to go. 
 
 " I '11 get it for you," Tom answered. " It 's in my room." 
 
 In a minute he returned with the book in his hand. 
 
 Across the cover were written the following characters : 
 
 ~o\jl iravXdivy'g (3ooX' 
 
 Polly took the volume, and, seeing this strange legend, she 
 asked at once, " What 's that ? " 
 
 " That ? " echoed Tom. " Oh, that 's Greek." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding looked around in surprise. 
 
 " I did not know you were studying Greek," she said. 
 
 " I 'm not," Tom answered. " That is n't really Greek. 
 It 's just my name in Greek letters — I got them out of the 
 end of the dictionary, you know. Besides, I did that years 
 ago. I have n't used that book since I was eleven." 
 
 Then he took the list of things his mother wished him to 
 get, and went out. 
 
 When he came back, Pauline danced out to meet him, 
 waving a paper above her head with one hand, while with 
 the other she kept tight hold of the kitten which had climbed 
 to her shoulder. 
 
 " Guess what I 've found ! " she cried ; " aud guess where 
 I found it ! " 
 
72 
 
 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Tom went into the dining-room to make his report to his 
 mother. Then he turned to Polly and said : " Well, and what 
 did you find ? " 
 
 "I found this — in your 'rithmetic," she answered, open- 
 ing the paper and 
 holding it before 
 him. " It 's one of 
 your compositions, 
 written when you 
 were younger than 
 I am now — when 
 you were only ten. 
 It 's about money 
 — and Marmee and 
 I don't think that 
 ^k it is so bad, con- 
 sidering how very 
 young you were 
 / ; <m when you wrote it." 
 Mrs. Paulding 
 smiled, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " Let me see ! " cried Tom, holding out his hand. 
 " Will you promise to give it back?" she asked, retreating 
 behind her mother. 
 
 " It 's mine, is n't it ? " he replied. 
 
 " But I want to keep it. I would like to show it to our 
 teacher and to some of the girls, because it is so funny. I 
 
 GUESS WHAT I VE FOUND! SHE CRIED. 
 
CAKES AND A COMPOSITION. 73 
 
 can tell them that a little boy wrote it, without telling who 
 it was. It was a good subject to write about, I think. Just 
 think what I 've got to do a composition on next week ! On 
 ' Loyalty ! ' What can I write about Loyalty ? That 's one 
 of those head-in-the-air words I never have anything to say 
 about. The teachers we had last year used to let us write 
 descriptive compositions. I wrote one on 'A Walk in River- 
 side Park/ and I told all about the little girl's tomb with the 
 urn on it, you know. And we kept changing teachers, and 
 I handed in that composition three times ! " 
 
 " O Pauline ! " said her mother, reproachfully. 
 
 "Well," the little girl explained, "I wrote it over every 
 time and made it longer and fixed it up a bit. It 's so hard to 
 think of things to say when you have to write a composition." 
 
 " Let me have mine now," said Tom, " and I '11 give it back." 
 
 "Honest?" she asked. 
 
 " Certain sure," he answered. 
 
 " Hands across your heart ? " she inquired, holding out the 
 paper. 
 
 " Never see the back of my neck again, if I don't ! " declared 
 Tom, taking it from her hand hastily. 
 
 When he had opened it, and when he saw the irregular 
 handwriting and the defective spelling, he blushed slightly. 
 
 " I wrote this when I was a boy," he said, apologetically. 
 
 "What are you now 1 ?" asked his mother, as she glanced 
 up from her labors, smiling. 
 
 " I mean a little boy," Tom answered. 
 
 This is the composition which Tom Paulding had written 
 
 7 
 
74 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 when he was "a little boy." The signature and the date 
 under it are omitted, but the latter showed that Tom was 
 just ten years and three months old when he composed it : 
 
 MONEY. 
 
 I Money is one of the most useful things in the world 
 
 II and if it was not for money we should not have 
 
 III half the comforts and emploments which we have. Money 
 
 IV is a great thing and goes a great sometimes. There 
 
 V are a great many kinds of coins of different nations 
 
 VI the English, the French, the American, the Austriun, and the 
 
 VII Russian, and a great many others kinds of coins, 
 
 VIII There has been a great deal of money spent in 
 
 IX the war, To pay the soldier, and to buy the imple- 
 
 X ments of war, such as cannons, mortars, and cannans balls 
 
 XI and powder, and some of it to give to the widows 
 
 XII of the soldierds who have been killed, There are 
 
 XIII two kinds of Money, one kind of which is paper 
 
 XIV and the other kind is speice which is coin such 
 
 XV as gold silver and copper The coin, of the United 
 
 XVI, States are eagles, dollars, dimes, cents, and 
 
 XVII, mills, These are gold silver and copper. The 
 
 XVIII, Eagles dollars are gold, dollars dimes half dimes are sil- 
 
 XIX, ver, cents and half cents are copper., Besides the paper 
 
 XX money of the United States, which are the 100, 10, 5 
 
 XXI dollars and less. 
 
 "What I like about it," said Polly, stooping so that the 
 kitten could jump off her shoulder, "is the way you have 
 numbered the lines. Those Xs and Vs take up a lot more 
 space than plain figures, and they help to fill up beautifully. 
 Our teacher now wants us to write forty lines, but she 
 won't let us number them- 1 - is n't that mean?" 
 
 " I suppose you could write a very different composition 
 
CAKES AND A COMPOSITION. 75 
 
 on the same subject now, Tom, since you have been in 
 search of the money stolen from your great-grandfather/' 
 Mrs. Paulding suggested. 
 
 " I don't know," Tom answered, with a laugh ; " I think I 
 have learned something about the history of the battles here 
 in September, 1776 ; but I don't know any more about 
 money, because I have n't found any yet." 
 
 " How do you get on with your search ? " asked his mother. 
 
 " I don't get on at all," Tom answered, frankly. " I seem 
 to have found out all there is to know — and that does n't 
 tell me anything really. I know all about the stealing, but 
 I have n't the first idea where the stolen money is." 
 
 " Then I would not waste any more time on it," said Mrs. 
 Paulding. 
 
 " Oh, I 'm not going to give it up now," Tom declared, 
 forcibly ; " it 's just like a puzzle to me, and I 've worked 
 over puzzles before. Sometimes you go a long while, and 
 you don't see in the least how it could be done ; and then, 
 all of a sudden, it comes to you, and you do it as easily as 
 can be. And that 's what I hope will happen about this two- 
 thousand-guinea puzzle. At any rate, that 's the biggest 
 prize I ever had a chance at, and I 'm not going to give it 
 up without trying hard for it." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding's eyes lighted up with pleasure at Tom's 
 energy. 
 
 " I wish your Uncle Dick were here to help you," she said. 
 
 "I'd rather do it all by myself, if I can," Tom returned. 
 " If I can't, then I 'd like Uncle Dick's help." 
 
76 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Where is Uncle Dick now ? " asked Pauline. 
 
 " I believe he is at the diamond-fields in South Africa," her 
 mother answered. " That is where I wrote him last ; but I 
 have n't heard from him for nearly a year now." 
 
 " But if Uncle Dick came back, mother, we should n't need 
 the two thousand guineas," said Tom ; " he 'd pay off the 
 mortgage, and send me to study engineering, and get a new 
 doll for Polly, and — " 
 
 "I 'm not a baby ! " interrupted Pauline, " and I don't want 
 a new doll. If I had lots and lots of money, I think I should 
 like a little teeny-weeny tiger — just a tiger-kitten, you know. 
 It would be such fun to play with it. Is Uncle Dick very 
 rich, Marmee ? " 
 
 " I do not know whether he has any money at all or not," 
 answered Mrs. Paulding. " He was always a rolling stone, 
 and I doubt if he has gathered any moss." 
 
 " I should n't like an uncle who had about him anything 
 so green as moss," said Tom. 
 
 " We 'd like to see him, if he had n't a cent," cried Polly. 
 " But I 've read stories where uncles came back, and were 
 ever so rich, and did everything you wanted, and paid off the 
 mortgage, and gave everybody all the money they needed." 
 
 " I 'm afraid you must n't expect that kind of an uncle," 
 sighed Mrs. Paulding. 
 
 " Then I wish we had a fairy godmother ! " Polly declared. 
 
 " We 've got something finer than that," said Tom, bending 
 forward and kissing Mrs. Paulding ; " we 've got a mother 
 better than any fairy." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A QUARREL AND AN ARRIVAL. 
 
 'T must not be supposed that Tom Pauld- 
 ing's whole time was given up to Ins quest 
 for the stolen guineas, or that he in any- 
 way neglected his studies at school or his 
 duties at home. He went to school regu- 
 larly, and he did his usual tasks much as 
 he had done them before he had taken up the search ; per- 
 haps his interest in American history was a little keener now 
 that he felt himself in touch with the soldiers of the Conti- 
 nental army. His liking for mathematics, and his ingenuity 
 in solving problems, were no greater than before, as the 
 science of numbers had always been his favorite branch of 
 learning. 
 
 At home, as at school, life went ou with the same round 
 of duties and pleasures, the sameness of which was not re- 
 lieved after Tom had set his mind on a single object. It was 
 only on Saturdays, and then chieny in the afternoon, that 
 Tom could really devote himself to his quest. And this fix- 
 ing of Tom's energies on a private enterprise caused a loosen- 
 
73 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 ing of the tie that bound him to the Black Band. He lacked 
 the time to take part in all the elaborate sports of liis friends ; 
 and although, now and again, some specially wold plan of the 
 delicate Harry Zachary might for a moment tempt him, he 
 wavered for a moment only and went on his own way with 
 little regret, leaving his friends to amuse themselves after 
 their fashion. 
 
 At first this giving up of the pleasant sports of boyhood, 
 even for a little while, was not easy ; but as time went on, 
 and as Tom became more and more deeply interested in the 
 work to which he had given himself, he found that it was 
 easier and easier to turn aside from the tempting suggestions 
 of Harry Zachary and the hearty invitations of Cissy Smith. 
 It seemed to Tom as if he had now a more serious object in 
 life, to gain which would relieve not only himself, but his 
 mother and his sister ; and this thought strengthened him, 
 and he ceased to regret in any way his lessened interest in 
 the doings of the Black Band. 
 
 On the afternoon of the Saturday when Pauline had read 
 his early composition on " Money," Tom took a map he had 
 found in the boxes of papers. This was the map roughly 
 outlined by Nicholas Paulding, and it showed the position of 
 the American and British forces on the night of the robbery. 
 On it were marked also the situation of the camp-fire where 
 Nicholas had slept that evening, and the posts of the two 
 sentries who had fired at the thief. It showed, moreover, the 
 course of the little stream which separated the opposing 
 armies. Tom intended to compare this map with the ground 
 
A QUARREL AND AN ARRIVAL. 79 
 
 as it was now, and to see if he could identify any of the land- 
 marks, and so make sure exactly where the robbery took 
 place and in which direction Jeffrey Kerr had fled. 
 
 The weather was mild for the season of the year. It was 
 almost the middle of December, and as yet there had been 
 neither ice nor snow. A bright, clear December day in New 
 York is, as Shakspere says of old age, " frosty, but kindly." 
 Tom felt the bracing effect of the breeze as he stepped briskly 
 along. What he wished chiefly to discover was a trace of 
 the brook which the map indicated as having flowed between 
 the camp of George Washington's men and the camp of the 
 men of George III. He knew the ground fairly well already, 
 but he did not recall any such stream. 
 
 As he was hurrying along he came suddenly upon a little 
 group of the Black Band, marching down the street two 
 abreast under command of Cissy Smith, who careened at the 
 head. 
 
 " Hello, Tom ! " cried Cissy Smith. 
 
 " Hello ! " replied Tom. 
 
 " Halt ! " commanded the leader of the Black Band. 
 " Break ranks ! Go as you please ! " 
 
 Lott twisted himself forward and greeted Tom sneer- 
 ingly : 
 
 " Hello, Curly ! Are you off on your wild-goose chase 
 now?" 
 
 " Look here, Corkscrew, I Ve told you before that I won't 
 be called Curly ! And you sha'n't do it any more," Tom 
 declared, indignantly. He regretted bitterly that his dark 
 
80 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 hair persisted in curling, despite his utmost endeavor to 
 straighten it out and to plaster it down. 
 
 "If I had hair like a girl's, all curls and ringlets, I 
 should n't mind being called Curly," Corkscrew explained, a 
 little sulkily. 
 
 "Well, I do mind," Tom said, emphatically ; "and I want 
 it stopped." 
 
 Lott was silent. Perhaps he had no answer ready. He 
 was a little older than Tom, and of late he had begun to 
 grow at a most surprising rate. He was already the tallest 
 boy of the group. Cissy Smith had said that if Corkscrew 
 only kept on growing, the Black Band would make him their 
 standard-bearer and use him as the flagstaff, too. Lott's 
 spare figure seemed taller and thinner than it was because of 
 the high boots he always wore. 
 
 " I reckon there '11 be a row between Tom and Corkscrew, 
 sooner or later," whispered Harry Zachary to Smith. "They 
 are both of 'em just spoiling for a fight." 
 
 " Tom would knock the fight out of him in no time," Cissy 
 answered. " He 's well set up, while Lott 's all out of shape, 
 like a big clothes-pin. If he tried to bully me, I 'd tell him 
 to stop it, or I 'd make him sorry." 
 
 Lott hesitated and then held out his hand to Tom. " I tell 
 you what I '11 do," he said. " I '11 agree never to call you 
 Curly again, if you'll take me into this search of yours. I'd 
 like to know all about it, and I can find out a lot for you." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " cried Cissy. " I thought you called it a wild- 
 goose chase ? " 
 
A QUARREL AND AN ARRIVAL. 81 
 
 "So I did," Lott replied. "But that was only to tease 
 Tom." 
 
 " I do not want any help/' Tom declared. 
 
 " I 11 do what I can," urged Lott. "And when we get it, 
 I '11 ask for only a third of the money." 
 
 " No," Tom replied. " I 'm going to find it alone or not at 
 all." 
 
 "I '11 help you for a quarter of what we get — " Lott went 
 on. 
 
 " There 's no use talking about it," said Tom. " When I 
 want a side-partner in this business, I '11 pick one out for 
 myself." 
 
 "All right," Corkscrew answered, with a sudden twist 
 which took him out of the circle. " It 's your loss, not mine. 
 Any way, I don't believe you '11 ever find anything, either." 
 
 At this juncture little Jimmy Wigger ran up breatlilessly 
 and joined the group of boys. 
 
 " Are you going to play any good games to-day ? " he asked, 
 eagerly. " Can't I play, too ? I 'd have been here before, but 
 my aunt would n't let me till now. She 's given me permis- 
 sion to be out two hours if I 'm with Cissy or Tom, and if I 
 promise to be very careful and not to get my feet wet." 
 
 " I '11 take care of you," said Cissy. 
 
 " And we '11 let you play with us, if you are a good boy, 
 and don't cry," added Lott. 
 
 " I have n't cried for 'most a year now," little Jimmy de- 
 clared, indignantly. 
 
 " Then see you don't cry to-day," said Lott, taking from 
 
82 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 his pocket what was apparently a bit of wooden pencil. 
 " Oh, I say, Jimmy, just hold this for me, will you, while I 
 tie it ? " 
 
 " Certainly," little Jimmy replied, willingly. 
 
 " Hold it this way," Lott explained, " between your thumb 
 and your finger — so. Press tight against each end — that 's 
 it. Now I '11 tie the string." 
 
 As Corkscrew took hold of the threads which came out of 
 a hole in the middle of the pencil, and which, if pulled, woidd 
 thrust two needles into little Jimmy's hand, Tom grabbed 
 him by the arm. 
 
 "Drop that, Corkscrew!" he cried. "You sha'n't play 
 that on Jimmy." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Lott. "I fooled you with it yester- 
 day." 
 
 " I 'm old enough to take care of myself," Tom answered. 
 " Jimmy is n't. Besides, he 's just been put under my care 
 and Cissy's for to-day." 
 
 Lott sullenly wound the threads about the mean contriv- 
 ance in preparing which he had spent his study hour the day 
 before. As he put it in his pocket he said, " I don't see why 
 some people can't mind their own business ! " 
 
 " I 'm going to make it my business to keep you from 
 bullying Jimmy," Tom responded. 
 
 "How are you going to do it?" sneered Lott. 
 
 "I Ve been able to do it so far by catching you in time. 
 But before we get through I believe we shall have to fight it 
 out," Tom asserted. 
 
A QUARREL AND AN ARRIVAL. 
 
 83 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " Lott rejoined. "And who '11 take you 
 home to your mother then ? " 
 
 " I 'm younger than you/' Tom answered, " and I 'm not so 
 big, but I don't believe you can hurt me. And I don't mean 
 to have you hurt 
 Jimmy here. Do 
 
 'M&m , -•, 
 
 fflfiS^ 
 
 you understand ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I under- 
 stand fast enough," 
 Corkscrew rejoined; 
 " and I shall do just 
 what I like. So 
 there ! " 
 
 There was a little 
 more talk among the 
 boys, and then they 
 parted. The Black 
 Band marched off, 
 Cissy Smith lurch- 
 ing ahead as cap- 
 tain, with little Jim- 
 my Wigger and 
 Corkscrew Lott in the ranks together. Tom went on his 
 way to verify the map made by liis great-grandfather. 
 
 Just as the Black Band was going around a corner which 
 woidd take them out of sight, Lott stopped and called back. 
 
 Tom turned in answer to this hail. What he heard was 
 the taunting voice of Corkscrew shouting after him, " Good- 
 
 " TOM WAS ABLE TO KIND MOST OF THE POSITIONS 
 INDICATED ON THE MAP." 
 
S-t TOM PAULDING. 
 
 by, Curly ! Curly ! Oh, Curly ! Put them up in paper when 
 you get home ! " 
 
 Tom hesitated whether he should run after Lott and have 
 their fight out once for all, or whether he should pay no at- 
 tention to his words. He chose the latter course, and went 
 on his way again. 
 
 During the afternoon, before the early twilight closed in, 
 he was able to find most of the positions indicated on the 
 map. Some of them were plainly to be seen, being very little 
 changed from their condition the night before the Battle of 
 Harlem Heights. Others were difficult to verify, because of 
 the new streets and the houses which had been built of late 
 years. 
 
 The little brook, which was the chief object Tom wished 
 to trace, he succeeded at last in locating precisely. Of course 
 it was no longer a brook. When streets are run across 
 meadows and through hills, the watercourses must needs 
 he dry and bare. But there were several adjoining blocks 
 where the street-level was higher than the original surface, 
 and where the vacant lots had not been filled in. 
 
 Across three of these open spaces Tom was able to trace 
 the course of the little stream, with its occasional rock-bor- 
 dered pools, in which fish once used to feed, and which had 
 become dry and deserted. The wallows which bordered one 
 bank of the brook were still standing. Tom was successful 
 in discovering even the site of the Seven Stones which had 
 served for a passage across the stream where it broadened 
 out into a tiny pond. 
 
A QUARREL AND AN ARRIVAL. 85 
 
 In the plan made by Tom's great-grandfather these were 
 marked "the stepping-stones" simply; but in another and 
 rougher map, which also Tom had found among the papers 
 of Wyllys Paulding, they were called the Seven Stones. 
 Tom was interested in identifying them, as he thought that 
 Jeffrey Kerr might have crossed them in his flight from the 
 American camp to the British. 
 
 But as Kerr never reached the British forces, there was no 
 need of speculating how it was that he might have gone if 
 he had reached them. This Tom felt keenly. In fact the 
 more he studied the situation, and the better he became ac- 
 quainted with the siu'roundings, the more difficult seemed the 
 problem of Kerr's disappearance. When that feeling was at 
 its worst, he would recollect that his grandfather had made 
 the same inquiries he was now trying to make, and that his 
 grandfather had suddenly and unhesitatingly abandoned the 
 quest ; and the reason for this strange proceeding seemed to 
 Tom as hard to seek as the other. 
 
 Tom walked slowly home in the gathering dusk of the De- 
 cember day. The sun was setting far down across the river, 
 and the clouds were rosy and golden with the glow. Tom 
 did not see the glories of nature ; his mind was busy with his 
 puzzles. He kept turning them over and over again. He 
 wished that he had some one to whom he could talk plainly, 
 and who might be able to suggest some new point of view. 
 None of his school-fellows was available for this purpose. 
 Corkscrew, of course, would not do, and Harry Zachary was 
 too young, while Cissy Smith was so practical and so sarcas- 
 
86 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 tic sometimes that Tom hated to go to him, although he and 
 Cissy were the best of friends. 
 
 His mother he was not willing to bother with his hopes and 
 his fears. She had her own burdens. Besides, the delight 
 of bringing her money to pay off the mortgage and do with 
 as she pleased would be sadly damped if she had any share 
 in the recovery of the guineas. 
 
 Tom foimd himself wishing that he had some older friend 
 whom he could consult. He wondered even whether he 
 might not do well to go down town and have a talk with the 
 lawyer, Mr. Duncan. 
 
 When he had climbed the steep flight of wooden steps 
 which led from the street to the ground about their house, he 
 thought he saw Pauline at a window as though she were 
 waiting for him. As he drew near the porch, the front door 
 was opened and Pauline came flying out, her eyes sparkling 
 and her hair streaming out behind. 
 
 " Tom," she cried ; " oh, Tom, guess who is here ! " 
 
 " I can't guess," he answered. " Who is it ? " 
 
 " It 's Uncle Dick," she answered. " He came this after- 
 noon just after you went out, and I was all alone, and I had 
 to receive him. And now he 's in the parlor talking to Mar- 
 mee and waiting to see you." 
 
 Here, as it happened, was the very friend Tom had been 
 hoping for. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 UNCLE DICK. 
 
 HEN Tom followed Pauline into the parlor 
 he found his uncle seated on the sofa be- 
 side their mother. The first sight of his 
 uncle gave Tom the impression of strength 
 and heartiness, which was confirmed as 
 they came to know each other well. Uncle 
 Dick was neither tall nor stout, but his figure was well built 
 and solid ; perhaps he was rather under than over the aver- 
 age height of man. His eyes were dark, and so was his 
 hair, save where it was touched with gray at the temples. 
 His hands, which were resting on his knees, seemed a little 
 large ; and the distinct sinews of the wrists indicated unusual 
 strength of grip. His face was clean shaven, except for the 
 mustache which curled heavily down each cheek. 
 
 His smile was kindly as his eyes looked Tom straight in 
 the face, and his greeting was hearty. 
 
 " So this is Tom, is it ? " he said, holding out his hand and 
 giving Tom a cordial clasp. 
 
 "And you are Uncle Dick," Tom responded, echoing his 
 uncle's pleasant laugh. 
 
88 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Yes, I am Uncle Dick. I 'm your mother's only brother, 
 and yon are her only son. Let me get a good look at you." 
 
 So saying, he raised his hands and grasped Tom by the 
 shoulders and held the boy off at arm's-length, while he took 
 stock of him. 
 
 After a long searching gaze, which Tom met unflinchingly, 
 Uncle Dick said to Mrs. Paulding, " He has your eyes, Mary, 
 and your hair, — but how like he is to his father ! " 
 
 Despite his bold front, Tom had endured the close scrutiny 
 with secret discomfort ; but now he flushed with pleasure. 
 Mrs. Paulding had often talked to her son about the father 
 he could scarcely remember, and it was Tom's chief wish to 
 grow as like his father as he could. 
 
 " Yes," repeated Uncle Dick, " he is very like Stuyvesant." 
 Then he released his hold on Tom's shoulders. " I do not 
 see, Mary," he said, turning to Mrs. Paulding, " that you have 
 any reason to be dissatisfied with these youngsters. They 
 look like healthy young Americans with clear consciences 
 and good appetites. If they take to me as I have taken to 
 them, we shall get along all right." 
 
 "I 'm sure we shall all be ever so fond of you, if you -'11 
 only stay here," said Pauline ; " in fact, I 'm fond of you 
 now." 
 
 "You see, your sister and I," explained Uncle Dick to 
 Tom, " have already made friends. She has shown me round 
 her cat-ranch outside there, and — " 
 
 " And what do you think ? " interrupted Pauline. " Mousie 
 approved of Uncle Dick at once, and went up and let him 
 
ill I 
 
UNCLE DICK. 91 
 
 stroke his neck — and you know Mousie is very hard to 
 please." 
 
 " Then I can look upon Mousie's approval of me as a cer- 
 tificate of good moral character/' said Uncle Dick, with a 
 ringing laugh. "And I don't know but what I 'd rather have 
 a letter of recommendation from a dumb beast than from 
 many a man I 've met. As a judge of human nature, ' the 
 biped without feathers/ as Plato called him, is sometimes 
 inferior to our four-footed friends." 
 
 " I 'm glad to be told I 'm like my father," Tom remarked, 
 as he sat down by his mother's side. 
 
 " You are like him, as I 've said," responded his uncle, " and 
 that 's a reason you and I should be good friends, — for no 
 man ever had a better friend than your father was to me. 
 When we were boys of your age we played together on these 
 grounds ; and we went off on long walks together up to High 
 Bridge and across the Harlem River. This is a fine place for 
 a boy — at least we found it so. There are lots of good spots 
 for sham fights and so forth. Down in the woods by the 
 river, near the railroad track, we used to go on long scouting- 
 raids after the Indians. But I suppose that is altogether too 
 old-fashioned a sport for you boys nowadays." 
 
 Tom promptly informed his uncle all about the Black 
 Band, and about the bonfire on election night, when he had 
 to run the gantlet and had afterward been burnt at the stake. 
 
 " Mother has told us about your adventure with the Indians 
 in the Black Hills," Tom said ; " that is, she 's told us all you 
 wrote, but there must be lots more to tell — is n't there?" 
 
92 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 "There 's one thing to tell," replied Uncle Dick; "it 's a 
 great deal more fun to play at Indians here on Manhattan 
 Island than it is to have the real redskins come whooping 
 after your scalp." 
 
 " They did n't get yours, did they ? " asked Pauline. 
 
 " They did n't that time — but it was a very tight squeak," 
 Uncle Dick answered. 
 
 " You '11 tell us about all your adventures, won't you ? p 
 Pauline besought. 
 
 Uncle Dick laughed heartily. " I 've been about a good 
 deal, here and there, but I don't know that I 've really had 
 any adventures that you could call adventures," he said. 
 
 " But you ran away to sea ? " Polly cried. 
 
 "Oh, yes," he answered. 
 
 " And you were wrecked ? " she continued. 
 
 " Yes," assented her uncle. 
 
 " And you went to the war, and you were taken prisoner ? " 
 she went on. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you 've fought the horrid Indians, and you 've been 
 to Africa for diamonds, and you 've done lots and lots of 
 other things like that, — and if those are not adventures, I 'd 
 just like to know what are?" she urged. 
 
 " Some of these things were rather exciting while they 
 lasted," said Uncle Dick, calmly, "but I don't think I should 
 call any of them adventures." 
 
 " What would you call an adventure, then ? " asked Pauline. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he replied. " Perhaps it is an advent- 
 
UNCLE DICK. 93 
 
 ure to have been shut up in the Rock Temple at Petra, alone 
 with your deadly enemy, when he had a revolver and you 
 had nothing but a penknife, and when you believed that if 
 you got out alive the natives outside would promptly kill 
 you." 
 
 "Did that happen to you?" asked Tom, with intense 
 interest. 
 
 "Well, it was n't exactly that way," responded his uncle. 
 " You see he had only a single-barreled pistol and I had a 
 bowie-knife, so it was almost an even thing." 
 
 " Did you fight him "? " Polly inquired. 
 
 " I had to." 
 
 " And how did it end ? " Polly asked, eagerly. " Did he 
 kiU you?" 
 
 Uncle Dick laughed again and responded, " Do I look like 
 a ghost ? " 
 
 Polly blushed and explained hastily, " I mean, did you kill 
 him ? " 
 
 " No," her uncle said, " I did n't kill him and he did n't kill 
 me. He fired at me and missed my head by half an inch — 
 I believe he did cut off a stray lock of hair — you see I have 
 curls like yours, Tom." 
 
 " And what did you do then ? " was Polly's instant query. 
 
 " He sprang on me and I defended myself, and he got a 
 wound — " 
 
 " A serious wound ? " asked Polly. 
 
 " I never yet saw a wound that was comic," Uncle Dick re- 
 plied, " either for the man who had it, or the man who gave 
 
94 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 it. Fighting is a sad business, at best, and I keep out of it 
 when I can. As good luck would have it, this man's wound 
 was not dangerous ; but it left me free to make my escape." 
 
 " But how did you get past the natives outside, who were 
 waiting to kill you ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " I did n't get past them," was the answer. 
 
 " But they did n't Mil you ! " Polly cried. 
 
 " They got ready to do it," Uncle Dick explained, " when an 
 old sheik interfered. He was a great friend of mine, that 
 old sheik, and I had done him a favor once ; and so he saved 
 my life and got me away to the coast. Of course you ought 
 to do people favors whenever you can ; and the very least 
 reason is that you never know when their gratitude may 
 come in handy." 
 
 "How did you happen to be in the Rock Temple?" asked 
 Tom, " and with your enemy, too ? " 
 
 " How did I happen to get into all my scrapes ? " returned 
 Uncle Dick. "For a simple reason. Because I did not fol- 
 low the advice of the Turkish proverb which says, ' Before 
 you go in, find a way out.' All my life I 've been going into 
 all sorts of things — and generally I 've had to squeeze out 
 of the little end of the horn. As the old colonel of my regi- 
 ment used to say, 'I 've had lots of luck in my life — good 
 and bad.' " 
 
 " It is good luck which has brought you back to me, Dick," 
 said Mrs. Paulding. "And the longer you stay the better I 
 shall like it." 
 
 " 1 don't know how long it will be, Mary," he answered ; 
 
UNCLE DICK. 95 
 
 " that all depends on what Joshua Hoffmann says on Mon- 
 day morning." 
 
 " Joshua Hoffmann ? " Tom repeated ; " is n't he the gen- 
 tleman who owns that grand new house on the Riverside 
 Drive, with the broad piazzas, and the towers, and the ground 
 around it with a brick wall ? " 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Paulding replied. " Mr. Hoffmann has built 
 a new house near us since you were here last, Dick." 
 
 " Everything around this place seems new since I was here 
 last," Uncle Dick returned. " But even if Joshua Hoffmann 
 has a house near us, I sha'n't intrude on him up here — at 
 least not at first. I '11 talk business down-town at his office." 
 
 " He 's sure to be glad to see you, Dick," said Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing. " Children, you know that your uncle saved Mr. Hoff- 
 mann's life ? " 
 
 " I did n't know it at all," Tom replied. 
 
 " Neither did I," Uncle Dick declared. 
 
 " Tell us all about it at once, please," Polly besought. " I 
 like to hear about people's lives being saved." 
 
 "It 's very little to tell," her uncle responded; "all I did 
 was to give him warning of a plot against him. It was when 
 he was out in the China Seas, aboard his private steam- 
 yacht, the ' Rhadamanthus.' He had a crew of Lascars, and 
 was going down the coast. From a Chinaman I had once 
 recommended I received warning not to go — he 'd offered 
 me a berth on the yacht — because the Chinese pirates had 
 bribed half the crew, and they meant to attack Mr. Hoff- 
 mann in a pirate junk which would come alongside under 
 
96 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 pretense of being in need of water. Of course I warned Mr. 
 Hoffmann, and I accepted the berth on the yacht, and we 
 made ready for a good fight. We ran out of port, dropped 
 alongside an American man-of-war, sent back the treacherous 
 crew, and took on board a lot of new men we could trust." 
 
 "And did the pirate junk attack you ? " Tom asked, eagerly. 
 
 "It did," Uncle Dick answered. "And when they made 
 their sudden assaidt and found us ready for them with a 
 couple of Gatling guns on the main deck, you never saw 
 pirates so surprised in all your life." 
 
 "I didn't know that Chinamen were ever pirates," said 
 Polly; "I thought they all either made tea or took in 
 washing." 
 
 "How did the fight end?" was Tom's impatient question. 
 
 "The junk was sunk, and the crew were sent back as 
 prisoners; and I suppose that in time 
 they were tried and sentenced." 
 
 At this juncture in the conversation, 
 the Careful Katie entered to announce 
 that supper was ready. Tom rushed up- 
 stairs to wash and to brush his hair. 
 
 When he came down, he found his mother and Uncle Dick 
 discussing Mr. Joshua Hoffmann, who was at once one of 
 the richest and one of the best men in New York ; a man 
 good himself and never tired of doing good to others ; a man 
 full of public spirit and leading in notable public enterprises ; 
 a man who considered his great fortune as a trust for the bene- 
 fit of those who had been less fortunate. 
 
UNCLE DICK. 
 
 97 
 
 " He 's a man riches have not spoiled," remarked Uncle 
 Dick ; " and that 's saying a great deal for anybody." 
 
 "He's a man that's good to the poor," interjected the 
 Careful Katie. " Heaven bless him ! " 
 
 For a second Uncle Dick looked a little surprised at this 
 
 UNCLE DICK TliLLS TOM AND 1'ULLY HIS ADVENTUKuS. 
 
 intrusion of the waitress into the conversation. Then he 
 
 laughed softly to himself ; and he said to his sister, as the 
 
 Careful Katie left the dining-room to get the hot biscuits, "I 
 
 see that she is quite as talkative as ever." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding smiled and answered, "She 's a faithful 
 
 creature, and I am used to her occasional loquacity." 
 9 
 
98 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I like it," Uncle Dick responded ; "I like anybody out of 
 the common, — anybody or anything that has a character of 
 its own. I have no use for a man who has had all his edges 
 and corners smoothed off till he is just as round and as com- 
 monplace as his neighbors." 
 
 The Careful Katie returned and placed on the table a plate- 
 ful of smoking hot biscuits. As she did this she dislodged a 
 knife, which fell to the floor. 
 
 " That 's a gentleman 's coming to the house," she said, 
 promptly. " Sure if I 'd done it yesterday, I 'd 'a' said it 
 meant you comin' back to us to-day, Mr. Richard." 
 
 " So if you drop a knife it means a gentleman is coming 
 to the house, does it?" asked Uncle Dick, with immediate 
 interest. He had studied the folk-lore and strange beliefs of 
 savage peoples in all parts of the world ; and to find a super- 
 stition quite as absurd in the chief city of the United States, 
 in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, was a surprise. 
 
 " What else should it mane ? " answered Katie. 
 
 " And if you drop a fork," Uncle Dick continued, " I sup- 
 pose that means a lady is coming ? " 
 
 "An' how could it mane anything else?" she asked in 
 answer. " I do be wondering who it is that knife '11 bring 
 us here to-night." 
 
 And with that she left the room. 
 
 "Mary," said Uncle Dick, as the door closed behind the 
 Careful Katie, "you were remarking that this house was 
 old-fashioned and had no modern conveniences — no dumb- 
 waiter, for example. It seems to me that it has something 
 
UNCLE DICK. 99 
 
 more useful than a dumb-waiter, — it has a talking wait- 
 ress." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding laughed. " Katie will talk a little too much," 
 she said, " but we don't mind it." 
 
 " Mind it ! " repeated Uncle Dick. " It is delightful. I en- 
 joy it. I have often heard of a certain person's being a brill- 
 iant conversationalist — and I never knew exactly what that 
 meant. But now I know. Why, the Careful Katie is a brill- 
 iant conversationalist." 
 
 " She 's very good to the pussies," said Polly, as if Uncle 
 Dick were attacking the Careful Katie. 
 
 " I 've no doubt she is good in every way," responded Uncle 
 Dick. " She 's a good talker, and that is a good thing. Con- 
 versation is her hobby — and we must never look a friend's 
 hobby in the mouth." 
 
 In chat like this the evening sped away. Pauline first and 
 then Tom went to bed reluctantly, unwilling to leave their 
 uncle, and fearing that in their absence he might tell of some 
 new and strange adventure by land or sea. The next day 
 was Sunday ; and before they went to bed again they had 
 learned more of their uncle's varied career. But it would 
 have taken many a " month of Sundays," as the Careful Katie 
 phrased it, for them to have been told a tithe of the extraor- 
 dinary adventures in which he had taken part. 
 
 Just turned two score years at the time he went back to his 
 sister's house in New York, Richard Rapallo had not spent 
 more than twelve weeks in any one place since he was thir- 
 teen. A little before the Rebellion had broken out, in Feb- 
 
100 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 ruary, 1861, when he was exactly thirteen years old, he had 
 run away to sea. He made a voyage in a whaler as cabin- 
 boy ; and when they had gathered a fair harvest of oil and 
 bone in the Northern Pacific, and had come homeward around 
 the Horn, and were at last almost in sight of 
 s?Lw^ port, a terrific storm caught them and blew 
 ^5 them far out of their course, and finally 
 wrecked them on Sable Island, that well- 
 filled graveyard of good ships. 
 When at last Richard Rapallo was taken off in an American 
 vessel, he again met with misfortune, for the ship was captured 
 by the Confederate cruiser '"Alabama," then just starting from 
 England on her career of destruction. The American crew 
 saw their ship burnt before their eyes. They were sent off in a 
 little fishing-smack to make their way home as best they could. 
 Richard Rapallo was only fifteen when he returned to New 
 York and went back to school. He was barely seventeen 
 when he enlisted in the army, then about £sft^ 
 
 to make its final effort to crush the Con- 
 federate forces and to capture Richmond. 
 It was in January, 1805, that he enlisted ; 
 and in February his regiment had its first 
 skirmish. Taken by surprise, two companies were sur- 
 rounded and forced to surrender. Richard had scarcely seen 
 any fighting, he had hardly heard a shot fired, but he was 
 taken prisoner like the rest; and a prisoner he remained 
 until the war was over. 
 
 Since the surrender of Lee there was hardly anything that 
 
UNCLE DICK. 
 
 101 
 
 Richard Rapallo had not done ; and there was hardly any- 
 where that he had not been. The restlessness which had led 
 him to run away as a school-boy had grown 
 with the years and with the lack of re- 
 straint, until it was quite impossible for him 
 to settle down in any one spot for long". 
 
 Young as he was then, only nineteen, he 
 had had charge of an important exhibit at the Paris Exposi- 
 tion of 18G7. There he formed friend- 
 ships which led him to Algiers and thence 
 to Syria and to Egypt. After long wan- 
 derings in the Dark Continent he came 
 back to New York again ; and he was 
 present at his sister's marriage to his old friend and school- 
 fellow, Stnyvesant Paulding. 
 
 Then again he started out, to the West 
 this time, as if he had had his fill of the 
 East. He had a ranch for a while ; and he 
 was in the legislature of Nevada for a term ; and he was one 
 of the first men to enter the Black Hills. 
 
 He became interested in a patent for hy- 
 draulic mining, and it was to introduce this 
 that he left America for Australia. 
 Here he traveled far into the interior ; 
 and he was gone so long with a party 
 of friends that it was feared they had all been lost in the bush. 
 From Australia he had gone up to China and Japan, aud 
 then down again to Calcutta and Bombay, forming one of a 
 
102 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 party which ascended some of the loftiest peaks of the Hima- 
 layas. Ou his way to Europe he was invited to join an ex- 
 ploring- expedition to the antarctic regions; and when the 
 explorations were concluded, it was by one of the ships of 
 this expedition that he was taken to Cape Colony. In time 
 he wandered north to the diamond-mines, and there he had 
 remained nearly a year. 
 
 In all his voyages and his journeyings, in the haps and 
 mishaps of his varied career, he had sharpened his shrewd- 
 ness, mellowed his humor, and broadened his sympathies. 
 There could be no more congenial companion for a healthy 
 and intelligent and inquiring boy like Tom Paulding ; and, 
 long before Sunday night, uncle and nephew were on the best 
 of terms. 
 
 " I Ve been 'Jack of all trades,'" said the man to the boy ; "I 
 hope you will be master of one. Make your choice early and 
 stick to it, and don't waste your life as I have wasted mine." 
 
 Tom wondered whether this could mean that Uncle Dick 
 was not as rich as he and Polly supposed that an uncle ought 
 to be — especially an uncle just back from the diamond-fields. 
 
 He was a little reassured on Sunday evening when Uncle 
 Dick brought out a large tarnished pebble, and told them 
 that it was a diamond. 
 
 Tom felt that only a rich man could afford to keep dia- 
 monds looking as shabby as that. 
 
 As to whether he wished his uncle to be rich or not, Tom 
 could not quite determine off-hand. He himself would pre- 
 fer to find the guineas stolen by Jeffrey Kerr, and with them 
 to pay off the mortgage and make sure his own future and 
 
UNCLE DICK. 103 
 
 his sister's. But if lie did not find the guineas, — and he 
 confessed that he had made no great progress as yet, — then, 
 of course, it would be very convenient indeed to have in the 
 house a wealthy and generous uncle. 
 
 Tom went to bed on Sunday night trying to make up his 
 mind whether his uncle was rich, and whether he wanted his 
 uncle to be rich. 
 
 Almost the last thing that he heard his uncle say, as he 
 went up to bed that night, made him suspect that perhaps a 
 man might come back from the diamond-fields of South 
 Africa without being enormously wealthy. 
 
 What Uncle Dick had said was this : " I Ve gone abroad 
 on many a cruise, and I 've been in many a port, — but my 
 ship has never come home yet." Then Uncle Dick laughed 
 lightly and added, " Perhaps she is now refitting for the voy- 
 age — at my castle in Spain." 
 
 Tom knew that a castle in Spain was the sole residence of 
 the absolutely homeless, and he thought that this speech 
 meant that his Uncle Dick's having was less than his hope. 
 
 On Monday morning, as Tom went off to school, Uncle 
 Dick started with him, saying, "I 've two or three things to 
 attend to down -town before I go to see Joshua Hoffmann, 
 and I suppose I 'd better start early." 
 
 " I can show the way to the elevated railroad station," Tom 
 suggested, as they went down the little flight of steps to the 
 street. 
 
 " I don't want any elevated railroad station," replied his 
 uncle. " I 'm going to walk. ' Shanks's mare ' is my steed : 
 
104 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 it does n't take money to make that mare go — but on the 
 other hand it 's true that mare does n't go very far." 
 
 Pauline was a little late that morning, and when she came 
 to kiss her mother good-by, before going to school, she could 
 not resist the temptation of the opportunity. She said : 
 
 "Marmee, can I ask you a question?" 
 
 " Certainly, Polly dear," was the answer. 
 
 " It 's about Uncle Dick," Pauline went on, shyly. 
 
 " Well f " 
 
 " Well, is he very rich ? " she asked at last. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding looked down at her little daughter and said, 
 " Why do you ask that ? " 
 
 " Because Tom and I thought that if Uncle Dick had been 
 picking up diamonds — I wonder if they do it in Africa with 
 raw meat and a big bird as they did in ' Sindbad' — if he 'd 
 been finding diamonds, why, of course he was very rich, and 
 he 'd pay the mortgage and make you more comfortable and 
 we 'd all be happier." 
 
 "Your Uncle Dick," Mrs. Paulding said, smoothing her 
 daughter's hair, " is not rich. He has very little money, and 
 he has gone now to see Mr. Hoffmann hoping he can get a 
 situation of some sort here in New York." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Pauline, "then he is poor?" 
 
 "Yes," her mother answered. "He is not in need, of 
 course ; but he has little or no money." 
 
 " I must tell Tom as soon as I can," Pauline remarked, 
 gravely ; " and now he has just (jot to find that stolen money 
 at once." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A LESSON EN GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 ITHIN forty-eight hours after Mr. Richard 
 Rapallo's arrival at Mrs. Paulding's house, 
 he had made himself quite at home there. 
 He took his place in the family circle easily 
 and unobtrusively, and before he had been 
 in the house more than a week, Pauline found herself won- 
 dering how they had ever got on without Uncle Dick ; Tom 
 recognized in his uncle the wise friend for whom he had 
 been longing of late ; Mrs. Paulding was very glad to have 
 her brother with her again ; and even the Careful Katie was 
 pleased. 
 
 " It 's a sight for sore eyes," she said, " to see Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing so cheerful ! And Mr. Richard was always a lively boy 
 and kept the pot a-boilinV 
 
 In the Careful Katie Uncle Dick took amused interest. 
 Her willingness to enter now and then into the talk at the 
 dinner-table afforded him unending entertainment. He usu- 
 ally called her the " Brilliant Conversationalist " ; and as he 
 knew that this was a nickname she would not understand, 
 
106 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 he did not hesitate to allude to the Brilliant Conversational- 
 ist even when Katie was actually present. 
 
 He delighted in drawing her out and in getting at the 
 strange superstitions in which she believed, for they came up 
 in the most unexpected ways. He would set Pauline to lead 
 her on about signs and warnings. Having been told that 
 the dropping of a knife meant the coming of a " beau " or of 
 " some other gentleman," and that the dropping of a fork in- 
 dicated the visit of a lady, he was greatly puzzled to know 
 what the dropping of a spoon could portend. Pauline agreed 
 to find out for him. 
 
 Pauline and her uncle were great friends. He had be- 
 come interested in her and in her doings at once, and he had 
 the art of seeing things as she did. In time she wholly for- 
 got that there was a great difference of years between them, 
 and she came to talk with her uncle as with a comrade of her 
 own age. 
 
 She reported that the fall of a spoon foretold that "it" was 
 coming — "it" being something vague, unknown, impossible 
 to predict with precision. 
 
 " I see," said Uncle Dick, when Polly told him this. " I 
 see it all now. The scheme is as simple and as logical as 
 one could wish. The knife indicates that the coming visitor 
 is masculine, while the fork is the feminine of this prediction, 
 and the spoon is the neuter." 
 
 " So it is ! " Polly declared, with surprise. " It 's just like 
 the grammar, then, is n't it ? And I think grammar is 
 horrid ! " 
 
A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY. 107 
 
 « 
 
 "There is n't much English grammar left nowadays," 
 Uncle Dick returned. " We have shaken off most of the un- 
 necessary distinctions of more complicated languages. In 
 French, now, the sun is masculine, while in German it is 
 feminine." 
 
 " Then, if I was a French-and-German girl I should n't 
 know whether the sun was a man or a woman ? " asked Polly. 
 " I think that would be terrible ! " 
 
 "It would be terrible indeed," Uncle Dick answered, 
 gravely ; " but perhaps the sun would still shine, even if you 
 did n't know its gender." 
 
 " Grammar 's bad enough," continued the little girl, " but 
 sometimes I think joggraphy 's worse." 
 
 " Oh, it 's joggraphy still, is it 1 " asked her uncle. " It 
 used to be when I was a boy at school." 
 
 " Of course it 's joggraphy," she returned, in surprise. 
 " What could it be ? " 
 
 " I did n't know," Uncle Dick responded. " I thought that 
 perhaps it might now be geography." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Dick ! " said Polly, blushing, " I think it 's real 
 mean of you to catch me like that." Then, after a little 
 pause, she added, "We do say joggraphy, I know — that is, 
 we generally shorten it to jog. We shorten everything we 
 can. We say Am. hist, for American history, and comp. for 
 compositions, and rith. for arithmetic." 
 
 " I suppose that you have to condense a great deal," Uncle 
 Dick remarked, gravely, "because you have so little time be- 
 fore you." 
 
108 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Pauline did not see the irony of this. She went on gaily : 
 " I don't like jog. any more ; we are in Africa now — " 
 
 " I should n't have thought it, from the weather here," Uncle 
 Dick interrupted, glancing at the window, through which he 
 could see the falling flakes of the first snow-storm of the 
 winter. 
 
 " I mean we are i;i Africa in our jog.," she explained. 
 
 " I see," he answered, sedately. 
 
 " And I don't like it at all. It 's all so hard and so — so dry." 
 
 " I 've found Africa very dry myself," admitted her uncle. 
 
 "Have you been there?" she asked. Then she added 
 hastily, "Why, of course you have. You were at the dia- 
 mond-fields. Now, is n't that funny ? I read about the dia- 
 mond-fields in my jog., and it never struck me that they 
 were real places, you know, where real people might be, as 
 you were." 
 
 Uncle Dick laughed a little. " I can understand that," he 
 remarked. " They were simply a name on the map — simply 
 something that you had to study out of a book — not some- 
 thing interesting, and alive, where there are men and women 
 and children. Well, I '11 try and make you take a little more 
 interest in that name on the map." 
 
 Then he lifted her on his knee and told her about the 
 diamond-fields. He described the country thereabouts and 
 the difficulties of the journey there. He explained how the 
 mines were worked, and he showed her that the laborers 
 there were human beings with good qualities and bad quali- 
 ties of their own. He set before her in a few graphic words 
 
A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 109 
 
 the different nationalities that are to be found in South 
 Africa — the English colonists, the Dutch settlers, and the 
 native Africans. 
 
 When he had come to an end of his description, Pauline 
 
 UNCLE DICK TELLS TOLLY ABOUT THE DIAMOND-FIELDS. 
 
 kissed him and said, " Uncle, I shall never hate jog. again. 
 
 I had no idea it was so interesting. And besides, when we 
 
 have a review now, I shall know ever so much more than any 
 
 of the other girls. I shall surprise them so ! " 
 
 Uncle Dick smiled again. " I Ve had that feeling myself," 
 
 he confessed. " When I went back to school after I 'd been 
 10 
 
110 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 on a voyage, geography was my favorite lesson, because I 'd 
 seen so many of the places. I remember to this day how 
 conceited I was when I told them all that it was n't necessary 
 to go around Cape Horn if you could get into the Strait of 
 Lemaire." 
 
 " I '11 remember that, too/' Polly declared, promptly. 
 
 " As long as we were at work on South America," continued 
 Uncle Dick, " I was all right. I 'd been around it, and I 
 thought I knew all about it ; and of course I had seen more 
 than any of the others. But pride had a fall at last, and 
 conceit got knocked on the head as soon as we finished 
 America and began on Europe." 
 
 "Had n't you been to Europe?" she inquired. 
 
 " Not then ; I did n't cross the Atlantic until '67, at the 
 time of the Paris Exposition. And as I knew, or thought I 
 knew, all about South America, I 'd got into the habit of not 
 studying my geography lesson. There were times when I 
 did n't even open the book. So one day, — I can remember 
 now how the school looked when the teacher asked me the 
 question, — it was late in June, and we were all restless. I 
 think the teacher saw this and wished to make it as easy for 
 us as she could, so she called on me. She had found out that 
 I liked to talk, and that the other boys liked to hear me be- 
 cause I used to bring in words and phrases I 'd picked up 
 from the sailor-men during our long voyage. So she called, 
 ' Rapallo,' and I stood up. And she asked, ' Which way does 
 the Nile fiW ? ' Now, I did n't know anything at all about 
 the Nile or about Africa, and I was at a loss. I hesitated, 
 
A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY. Ill 
 
 and I tried to remember how the Nile looked on the map. 
 But I had n't really studied the map, and I could n't remem- 
 ber anything' at all. So I did n't know what to say. I stood 
 there foolishly, thinking as hard as I could. Then I tried to 
 get out of it by luck or else by sheer guessing. So when she 
 repeated the question, ' What is the course of the Nile ? ' I 
 answered boldly, ' Southwest by south.' And you should 
 have heard how the boys laughed ! The teacher had to join 
 in too." 
 
 And Uncle Dick himself laughed heartily at the recollec- 
 tion of his blunder. 
 
 Pauline smiled, a little doubtfully. 
 
 " I think I '11 go out and get a taste of that snow-storm," 
 said her uncle, rising. " It is the first I Ve seen in three 
 years." 
 
 As soon as Uncle Dick had left the house, Pauline went to 
 her own room and got down her geography and turned to 
 the map of Africa. She wished to make sure of her own 
 knowledge as to the course of the Nile, so that she could en- 
 joy her uncle's blunder. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 
 
 HE snow-storm kept up all night, and in 
 the morning there was no denying that 
 winter had come at last. The steep slopes 
 of the Riverside Park were covered three 
 inches deep. The boys got out their sleds 
 and began to coast. A sharp frost fol- 
 lowed the snow-storm and froze the water out of the snow, so 
 that it was too dry to make into balls. 
 
 Before the Christmas vacation began, the aspect of the 
 landscape had undergone its winter change. The skies were 
 dull and gray, though the frosty sunset glowed ruddy over 
 the Jersey hills. Ice began to form in the river ; the night- 
 boats had ceased running weeks before ; and now the long 
 tows of canal-boats were seen no more. Even the heavy 
 freight-boats and the impudent little tugs became infrequent, 
 as if they feared to be caught in the ice. The long freight- 
 trains stood still on the tracks of the railroad down by the 
 water's edge, or moved slowly past as the powerful locomo- 
 tives puffed their white steam into the clear cold air. 
 
SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 113 
 
 Uncle Dick was in and ont of the house in the most irregu- 
 lar way. Generally he went out early in the morning, and 
 sometimes he did not return till late at night. Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing never delayed dinner in the hope of his coming back in 
 time for it. He had told her not to expect him until she saw 
 him. 
 
 "I Ve many things to do," he explained, " and I Ve many 
 people to see, and sometimes I have to catch them on the 
 jump, when I get the chance." 
 
 Just what his business was he never explained. He did 
 not tell any one in the house whether or not he had suc- 
 ceeded in securing the situation for which he had applied 
 to Joshua Hoffmann. Pauline was very curious, and she 
 wanted to ask her uncle about this ; but she thought it would 
 not be polite. She was always glad when Uncle Dick " took 
 an afternoon off," as he phrased it, for then he was likely to 
 spend a good part of it talking to her. 
 
 Tom had been busy with the examinations at school and 
 with the preparations for Christmas at home, so that it was 
 not until the vacation began that he found an opportunity to 
 consult his uncle about the lost guineas. 
 
 On the afternoon before Christmas, Tom went out to give 
 an order for the supplies his mother needed to meet an un- 
 expected demand for several kinds of cake which a tardy 
 customer of the Woman's Exchange had called for. Having 
 done his errand, he turned into the Riverside Drive and began 
 to walk along the parapet. 
 
 When he came near the handsome house which Mr. Joshua 
 
114 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Hoffmann had recently built, he saw a carriage stop before 
 the door. Two gentlemen got out, and the carriage drove 
 around the corner to the stable. One of these gentlemen was 
 tall, thin, white-haired, and evidently very old, although he 
 still carried himself erect. The other was Tom's Uncle Dick. 
 
 The old gentleman apparently asked Mr. Rapallo to enter 
 the house, and Uncle Dick declined, shaking hands and bid- 
 ding good-by. The elderly man went up the few steps which 
 took him inside his own grounds ; then he paused and called 
 Mr. Rapallo back. Leaning over the low stone wall which sur- 
 rounded his lawn, the old gentleman had a brief talk with 
 Uncle Dick — a talk which ended a little before Tom came 
 opposite to them. 
 
 Then the elderly man again shook hands with Mr. Rapallo 
 and went into the house. 
 
 As Uncle Dick turned he caught sight of Tom Paulding. 
 
 " Hullo, youngster ! " he cried across the road. " Don't you 
 want to go for a walk ? " 
 
 It seemed as if Uncle Dick could never have enough 
 walking. Tom thought sometimes that his uncle took long 
 tramps just to humor his restlessness — to "let off steam," as 
 Tom expressed it. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo crossed the road and joined Tom. "Where 
 shall we go ? " he asked. 
 
 "Are you in a hurry f" Tom inquired. 
 
 "I 'm never in a hurry," he answered. 
 
 " I mean, have you time for a long talk with me ? " was 
 Tom's next question. 
 
MR. JOSHUA HOFFMANN HAS A TALK WITH UNCLE DICK. 
 
SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 117 
 
 " Of course I have," he replied. " We 've all tlie time there 
 is." 
 
 " Then I '11 take you up and show you the place where my 
 great-grandfather was robbed/ 7 said Tom, as they dropped 
 into the steady pace at which Mr. Rapallo always walked. 
 " I Ve been wanting to tell you all about it and to get your 
 advice." 
 
 "Advice is inexpensive," laughed his uncle; "there is n't 
 anything I can afford to give more freely. But I 'm afraid 
 you 11 not find it a very substantial Christmas present." 
 
 " You see, Uncle," Tom pursued, eagerly, " I 've worked on 
 this now till I 've done all I can. I 've got to the end of my 
 rope, and I thought that you could help me out with your 
 experience." 
 
 " I 've had plenty of experience, too," returned Uncle Dick. 
 " If experience was an available stock in trade, I could fit up 
 a store and sell off my surplus supply. I 've more than I 
 need for my own use. I 've been pretty nearly everywhere, 
 and I Ve seen all sorts of things, and I Ve met all sorts of 
 people, and — I 've nothing to show for it now but experience." 
 
 "Your not having money does n't make you miserable, 
 anyway," said Tom. 
 
 " I 'm richer than anybody I ever met," Uncle Dick declared, 
 seriously. 
 
 Tom looked at him in surprise. 
 
 " I don't mean in mere money," he went on. " Money is 
 only one of the standards by which you measure riches — and 
 it is n't a very good one, either. I 'm rich because I have all 
 
118 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 I want. I 've met wealthy men in all parts of the world — in 
 New York and in New Zealand, among- the Eskimos and 
 among the Arabs ; they had different ideas of wealth, of 
 course, but they were all alike in one thing — they all wanted 
 more. I 've never met a very wealthy man who did n't want 
 more than he had. Now, I don't. I 'm content. And that 's 
 'the best gift of heaven to man' — contentment. It takes 
 few things to give it. Health, first, of course ; then freedom ; 
 then food and clothing ; after that, a roof over one's head 
 and a fire if it is cold. I 've been in places where clothing 
 and fire and shelter were not needed, and where the food 
 grew wild for the picking. In those places a man can get the 
 essentials of life very easily. But however he may get them, 
 the main thing is to be content with little. After all, I be- 
 lieve contentment is a habit. So I advise you to get accus- 
 tomed to being content as soon as you can. Then you will 
 never long to change places with a wealthy man. With most 
 of them, the more they have the more they want. I was talk- 
 ing just now with a very wealthy man — " 
 
 " The Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall ? " Tom in- 
 quired. 
 
 " The Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall," his uncle 
 assented. " He has money, houses, lands, mines, ships ; but 
 though he is old and has now earned his rest, and though the 
 care of all these things wears on him, still he wants more. He 
 is a good man, too, — one of the best men in the world to-day, 
 — and probably he wishes for more money only that he may 
 do more good with it. But he does wish for it, all the same." 
 
SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 119 
 
 " I 'm afraid I 'm not so content as yon, Uncle Dick," said 
 Tom. "I want more than I have. Yon know mother is 
 troubled about that mortgage, and I 'd like to go to the School 
 of Mines, and I think Pauline ought to have a chance, too ; 
 so that 's why I 'm trying to find the gold which was stolen 
 from my great-grandfather." 
 
 " It 's a boy's habit to be hopeful and striving," Uncle Dick 
 replied. " I should not wish you to look at the world with 
 my eyes yet a while. But even when you are trying for what 
 you think would better you — even then you can be content 
 with what you actually have. Now tell me all about this 
 gold which vanished suddenly and was seen no more." 
 
 Tom began at the beginning and told Uncle Dick the whole 
 story. He took Mr. Rapallo over the ground, and showed 
 the exact position of the two armies on the night of the rob- 
 bery. He had in his pocket the map Nicholas Paulding had 
 roughly outlined. With the aid of this he traced for Uncle 
 Dick the course of the little stream which had separated the 
 hostile camps the night before the battle, and he pointed out 
 the stepping-stones by means of which a passage might have 
 been had from one bank to the other. He gave Mr. Rapallo 
 all the information he had been able to extract from the pa- 
 pers gathered by Wyllys Paulding. He explained all the 
 circumstances of Jeffrey Kerr's taking the bags containing 
 the two thousand guineas, and of his escape with them. He 
 dwelt on the fact that after the second sentinel had fired on 
 Kerr, the thief had never been seen again, so far as anybody 
 knew. 
 
120 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " In other words," said Uncle Dick, " this man Kerr took 
 the money, ran outside our lines, and then vanished." 
 
 " That 's it exactly," Tom replied. 
 
 "And when he vanished, the gold disappeared too," Mr. 
 Rapallo continued. " You are right in calling this a puzzle. 
 It is a puzzle of the most puzzling kind." 
 
 " And there is one question which puzzles me quite as much 
 as the fate of the thief or the disappearance of the gold," Tom 
 declared ; " and that 's why it was that my grandfather sud- 
 denly gave up the search." 
 
 "That is odd," Uncle Dick confessed; "very odd, indeed. 
 It will bear a good deal of thinking over." 
 
 " And I want you to help me, Uncle Dick," pleaded Tom. 
 
 " Of course I will," replied Mr. Rapallo, heartily. " I '11 do 
 what I can — that is, if I can do anything. Have you told 
 any of the boys here about this ? " 
 
 " They know I 'm going to try to find it," Tom replied, 
 "but that 's all they do know. I thought at first of consult- 
 ing Harry Zachary, — he has such good ideas. He 's just been 
 reading a book called the ' Last Days of Pompeii,' and he 
 wants us to make a big volcano for the Fourth of July and 
 have an eruption of Vesuvius after it gets dark, and then 
 by the light of the burning mountain two of us will fight 
 a duel with stilettos — that 's a kind of Italian bowie-knife, 
 is n't it ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Uncle Dick, smiling. " I think that is a 
 good scheme. This young friend of yours seems to have ex- 
 cellent ideas, as you say. Why did n't you consult him ? " 
 
SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 121 
 
 " Well/' Tom answered, " his head 's all right, but he is n't 
 very strong, and he gets seared easily. Besides, his father 
 thinks he 's delicate, and he won't always let him out. His 
 father 's a tailor — that is, he manufactures clothes. Harry 
 says he has more than a hundred hands." 
 
 " Quite a Briareus," said Mr. Rapallo. "And is he the only 
 one you could take into confidence ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," Tom responded ; " there 's Cissy Smith." 
 
 "I don't think I would advise you to consult a girl," said 
 his uncle. 
 
 "Cissy is n't a girl," Tom explained. "' Cissy' is simply 
 short for Cicero. His full name is Marcus Cicero Smith, 
 Junior." 
 
 " Then I think I must know his father," Mr. Rapallo de- 
 clared ; " that is, if he 's a doctor, and if he used to live in 
 Denver." 
 
 " He did," said Tom. 
 
 " And why did n't you consult him ? " asked his uncle. 
 
 "Well," Tom explained, a little hesitatingly, "I don't 
 know that I can tell, for sure. I like Cissy. He 's my best 
 friend. But he 's so sharp, and he sits down on one so hard. 
 And besides, I thought I 'd rather do all the work myself." 
 
 They were then walking along the upper terrace of Morn- 
 ingside Park. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo glanced down into the park below and said, 
 " Is n't that boy making signals to you ? " 
 
 Tom leaned over and caught sight of Corkscrew Lott, who 
 
 was waving his hands as if signaling. 
 11 
 
122 
 
 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 As Tom came to the edge of the parapet, Lott whistled 
 
 Tom promptly answered 
 
 " That sounds like a rallying-call," said Mr. Rapallo, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 "We Ve got a secret society, called the Black Band, and 
 that "s our signal," Tom explained. 
 
 They walked a little way down toward Lott, and stood still 
 until he came up. Then Tom presented him to Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 Lott hardly waited for this introduction, he was so anxious 
 to communicate his intelligence. 
 
 " Have you heard the news ? " he asked, twisting with im- 
 patience. 
 
 " What news?" Tom returned. 
 
 " Then you have n't heard it," Lott went on, gleefully. " It 
 was found only this forenoon, and I was almost the first to 
 see it," 
 
 " What was found ? " asked Tom, with a sudden chill as he 
 feared that possibly some one else had discovered the treasure 
 he was after. 
 
 " It 's the skeleton of a soldier who was killed during the 
 Revolutionary War," Lott explained. 
 
 Uncle Dick and Tom looked at each other with the same 
 thought in their minds. 
 
CORKSCREW TELLS UNCLE DICK AND TOM OF THE DISCOVERY BY THE AQUEDUCT 
 LABORERS. 
 
SANTA GLAUS BKINGS A SUGGESTION. 125 
 
 " Where was this discovered f " Mr. Rapallo asked. 
 
 " Over there/' Corkscrew answered, pointing toward the 
 Hudson River behind them. " The men at work there on the 
 new aqueduct dug up the bones. It was the skeleton of a 
 British soldier." 
 
 "A British soldier?" echoed Mr. Rapallo. "How do you 
 know that ? » 
 
 " Oh, everybody says so," Lott answered. " Besides, they 
 found things with him that prove it." 
 
 " Did they find any money ? " cried Tom, anxiously. 
 
 " Did n't they though ? " Corkscrew replied. 
 
 Again Tom and Uncle Dick exchanged glances, and their 
 faces fell. 
 
 "Do you know how much they found?" inquired Mr. Ra- 
 pallo. 
 
 "Of course I do," Corkscrew answered. "I went up at 
 once, and I asked all about it, and I 've seen all the money. 
 There are two silver shillings and a silver sixpence and a cop- 
 per penny — a great big one with the head of George the 
 Second on it." 
 
 " Is that all ? " Tom demanded. 
 
 " Is n't that enough ? " Lott returned. " How much do you 
 think a British soldier ought to have had ? " 
 
 Tom drew a breath of relief. "If that is all," he began — 
 
 " How do you know it was a British soldier ? " Mr. Rapallo 
 repeated. " An American soldier might have had two-and- 
 six in silver and a penny in copper." 
 
 " The money was n't all that was found," Lott explained. 
 
126 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I thought yon said it was," Tom interrupted. 
 
 " I did n't say anything of the sort/' Lott replied. " I said 
 that was all the money ; but they found something else — the 
 buttons of his uniform ; and Dr. Smith, who has collected 
 buttons — I 'm going to begin a collection at once ; I can get 
 one from a ' sparrow ' policeman, and I Ve a cousin in the 
 fire department at Boston, and — " 
 
 " Never mind about the collection you are going to begin," 
 said Mr. Rapallo ; " tell us about these buttons now." 
 
 " Well," Lott returned, " Dr. Smith recognized them at 
 once ; he said that they were worn in 1776 by the Seventeenth 
 Light Dragoons ; and that that was one of the British regi- 
 ments which took part in the Battle of Harlem Heights." 
 
 " And what did Dr. Smith say about the death of the poor 
 fellow whose bones have been found ? " asked Uncle Dick. 
 
 " He said it was easy to see how the man had been killed, 
 and he took a big musket-ball out of the skull," said Lott. 
 " He thinks that in the hurry of the fighting some of the other 
 soldiers must have thrown a little earth hastily over the body, 
 and left it where it fell ; and so, in time, with the washing of 
 the rain and the settling of the dust and the growing of the 
 grass, somehow the skeleton got to be well under ground. 
 Why, it was at least six feet down, where they dug it out." 
 
 " Are you sure that they did not find anything else with it ? " 
 Mr. Rapallo inquired. 
 
 " Certain sure ! " said Corkscrew. " I asked every one of 
 them all about it. Oh, that 's all right : if there 'd been any- 
 thing else, I 'd have found out all about it. Maybe the men 
 
SANTA CLAUS BRINGS A SUGGESTION. 127 
 
 are there still ; you can go and ask them yourself, and I can 
 show you exactly where the bones were." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo and Tom Paulding walked with Lott to the 
 place where the men were yet at work sinking a deep ditch for 
 one of the huge pipes of the new aqueduct. The laborers had 
 advanced at least ten feet beyond the spot in which the skele- 
 ton had been discovered, but Corkscrew pointed out the place. 
 
 Uncle Dick asked the foreman a few questions, and then 
 he and Tom started for home. 
 
 " I don't see how that can be the skeleton of your thief, 
 Tom," said Mr. Rapallo, as they walked on after parting with 
 Lott. 
 
 "I 'm sure that Kerr could n't have got to the place where 
 those bones were found," Tom declared. " Kerr did n't reach 
 the British camp, and that place is well inside their hues. 
 Besides, he could n't have had on the uniform of the Seven- 
 teenth Light Dragoons, you know ; he was an assistant pay- 
 master in our army. And then those two shillings, and that 
 sixpence, and that penny — there was more than that in my 
 great-grandfather's money-bags ! No ; this can't be the man 
 we 're after." 
 
 " Then you are no nearer the solution of your problem," said 
 Uncle Dick. " I 'm afraid it will take you a long while to work 
 it out. I 'd help you if I could, but I don't see how I can." 
 
 '* It helps me just to have some one to talk to about it," 
 Tom urged. 
 
 " Oh, you can talk to me till you are tired," Uncle Dick 
 laughed. " The mystery of the thing fascinates me, and I 
 
128 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 shall be glad to talk about it. But you will have to do the 
 hard thinking yourself. 'Be sure you're right — then go 
 ahead ! ' That was a good motto for Davy Crockett, and it 
 is n't a bad one for any other American." 
 
 "I wish I only knew which way to go/' said Tom; "I 'd 
 go ahead with all my might." 
 
 " Put on your thinking-cap," remarked Mr. Rapallo, as they 
 mounted the flight of steps leading from the street to the 
 knoll on which stood Mrs. Paulding's house. " Sleep on it. 
 To-morrow is Christmas, you know ; perhaps in the morning 
 you will find an idea in your stocking." 
 
 Generally Tom was a late sleeper, like most boys, and it 
 was not easy to rouse him from his slumbers. But on Christ- 
 mas morning, by some strange chance, he waked very early. 
 Despite his utmost endeavor he could not go to sleep again. 
 He lay there wide awake, and he recalled the events of the 
 preceding day. Soon he began to turn over in his mind the 
 circumstances connected with Jeffrey Kerr's mysterious dis- 
 appearance. 
 
 Suddenly he sprang from his bed and lighted the gas. 
 Without waiting to dress, he pulled out the box of papers 
 and searched among them for a certain newspaper. When 
 he had found this he read a marked paragraph with almost 
 feverish eagerness. Then he put the paper away again in 
 the box, and dressed himself as rapidly as he could. 
 
 By the time he got down-stairs, creeping softly that he 
 might not disturb his mother, it was just daybreak. 
 
SANTA CLAUS BEINGS A SUGGESTION. 129 
 
 At the foot of the stairs he met the Careful Katie, who was 
 just baek from early mass. 
 
 " Holy Saints defend us ! " she cried. " Is that the boy, or 
 his banshee ? " 
 
 " Merry Christmas, Katie ! " he said, as he put on his over- 
 coat. 
 
 " An' is it goin' out ye are ? " she asked in astonishment. 
 "For why? Ye can't buy no more Christmas presents — 
 the stores is n't open, even them that ain't closed the day." 
 
 "I 've got to go out to see about something," he explained. 
 " I shall be baek in half an hour." 
 
 " It '11 bring no luck this goin' out in the night, an' not to 
 church either," said the Careful Katie, as she opened the door 
 for him. 
 
 An hour or so later, when Mr. Rapallo was dressing lei- 
 surely, there came a tap at his door. 
 
 " Who 's there ? " he cried. 
 
 "Merry Christmas, Uncle "Dick!" Tom answered. "You 
 were right, and Santa Claus has given me a suggestion." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked his uncle, opening the door. 
 
 " I have found an idea in my stocking," Tom explained ; 
 " or at least it came to me this morning early, and I 've been 
 out to see about it. And I think I 've made a discovery." 
 
 " Produce your discovery ! " Uncle Dick responded, noting 
 the excitement in the boy's voice and the light in his eyes. 
 
 " I think I know what became of Jeffrey Kerr," said Tom ; 
 " and if I 'm right, then I know where the stolen gold is ! " 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE FATE OF JEFFREY KERR. 
 
 NCLE DICK looked at Tom for a moment. 
 Then he whistled gently. 
 
 "If you have found out that, then 
 you have the finest Christmas present of 
 us all." 
 
 " I think I have," Tom declared. 
 " I 'm very glad to hear it," his uncle responded, heartily. 
 " Now, sit down here and tell me all about it." 
 
 Tom took a chair and sat down beside Mr. Rapallo. 
 '■ I think I know where the thief is," the boy began, " and 
 I hope I know where the gold is ; though, of course, I 'in not 
 sure. After all, it is only a guess, but still — " 
 
 " If you express all your doubts before you let me have all 
 the facts," interrupted Uncle Dick, "it will be a long time 
 before I can see what you are driving at. Better begin at 
 the beginning." 
 
 " The real beginning," Tom answered, " was when I got to 
 looking at this mystery just as if it was a problem in alge- 
 bra. Jeffrev Kerr was my or. He was n't exactly an un- 
 
THE FATE OF JEFFREY KERR. 
 
 131 
 
 known quantity, but there was a lot about him I did n't know. 
 I set down the facts, and then tried to work out my x — that 
 is, to see what had become of Kerr. If what my grandfather 
 
 "'I THINK 1 KNOW WHERE THE THIEF IS,' THE 1JOY BEGAN." 
 
 had found out and written down was right, then the thief 
 had vanished suddenly after he had got past the sentries of 
 Washington's army. Now, this morning when I was waking 
 up I found that I was thinking about this problem, just as if 
 
132 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 I had been at work on it in my sleep, puzzling it out in a 
 dream. I was still half asleep when I found that one 
 thought kept on coming back and coming back. And I 
 suppose that thought was the present Santa Claus had 
 brought me during the night, as you said he would." 
 
 " I did n't say that he would, for sure," said Mr. Rapallo. 
 " I hoped that perhaps he might. What was it that he told 
 you?" 
 
 " It seems so simple," Tom continued, " that I don't see 
 how I ever came to miss seeing it for so long." 
 
 " The greatest ideas are generally the simplest," Uncle Dick 
 remarked, encotu-agingly. "You remember that little egg 
 trick of Columbus's?" 
 
 "And it never seemed to me quite fair either," Tom 
 returned, "because — " 
 
 " Don't let 's discuss that now," his uncle interposed. 
 " What was your new idea ? " 
 
 " Well," Tom went on, " I found myself thinking that as 
 Kerr had left the American army, and as he had n't got to 
 the British army, and as he had n't ever been seen anywhere 
 since that night, or heard of by anybody, — why, perhaps the 
 shot the sentinel had fired at him had wounded him badly — 
 you remember my great-grandfather's account said there was 
 a cry of pain after that second shot ? " 
 
 " I remember," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " And if the shot had wounded him badly," Tom continued, 
 "that perhaps he had fallen dead somewhere between the 
 lines, and that perhaps somehow his body had got covered 
 
THE FATE OF JEFFREY KERR. 133 
 
 over or concealed or something of that sort, and so it might 
 perhaps be there now." 
 
 " I understand," Mr. Rapallo remarked, as Tom paused for 
 a moment to see if his uncle were following him. " If the 
 body was hidden then, there is no reason why it might not 
 be there to this day. But where can it be hidden ? That 
 will be a difficult question to solve." 
 
 Tom smiled cheerfully. "Well," he said, "of course I 
 don't know that 1 've found out that, certain sure ; but 1 've 
 got another idea about that, too." 
 
 " Produce idea number two ! " ordered Uncle Dick. 
 
 " As soon as I had really got hold of the first idea — the one 
 that possibly Kerr was wounded by that shot and that his 
 body might be there now — I waked right up," Tom re- 
 sponded ; " and it was when I was wide awake that I won- 
 dered where we could look for Kerr's body, with the gold on 
 it, perhaps. Suddenly it struck me that as Kerr was trying 
 to escape to the British, and as he knew the country, — he 'd 
 been living up near here at an old mill for months before, — 
 why, he 'd naturally try some kind of a short cut. There 
 was a little brook separating those two camps, and it had 
 been raining hard all day, — I looked at the old newspaper to 
 make sure of that, but I believe it nearly always does rain 
 hard after there 's been a battle, — and so I thought the brook 
 would be high, and Kerr was smart enough to know that it 
 would be, and so perhaps he 'd make for those stepping- 
 stones. You remember, I once showed them to you marked 
 on the map my great-grandfather made ? " 
 12 
 
134 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Yes, I remember," Mr. Rapallo replied ; " and I think I 
 see where you are going. I should n't wonder if you were on 
 the right track at last." 
 
 Tom's eyes lighted again with pleasure as he continued : 
 
 " I got out that map, and I looked to see if it would help 
 me. Well, the place is marked where the first sentry stood 
 that fired at Kerr, and then the place is marked where the 
 second sentry stood when he fired ; so I drew a line from one 
 to the other, and I thought that would show which way Kerr 
 was going. Then I stretched out that line toward the British 
 troops to see where he would cross the brook ; and I found 
 that if he had kept on the same way he started, then he was 
 running straight for those stepping-stones which my great- 
 grandfather had marked in his plan." 
 
 " And supposing you are right ? " Uncle Dick queried. 
 
 "Supposing I 'm right," Tom responded, "and supposing 
 he was badly wounded, perhaps when he got to those step- 
 ping-stones and tried to cross, he slipped and fell in. You 
 see the brook was up, and maybe the water was over the top 
 of some of the stones. It was a very dark night, and he 
 
 t 
 
 was running for his life, and perhaps he slipped and fell into 
 the pool." 
 
 "Well?" said Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " Well, if he did," Tom went on — " if he did fall, and he was 
 wounded, and the current was strong, and he had all that heavy 
 gold weighing him down, perhaps he was drowned there." 
 
 " If that happened," Uncle Dick inquired, " why was n't the 
 body found next day?" 
 
THE FATE OF JEFFREY KERR. 135 
 
 " I thought," Tom suggested, " that perhaps the strength 
 of the current might have rolled the body into the deepest 
 part of the pool, and then the sand and dirt and things which 
 the brook was carrying down would be caught by the body ; 
 and perhaps there would be enough of them to cover it up 
 completely. And if there was, why, then perhaps the gold 
 is there now." 
 
 " With the skeleton of the thief guarding it for you," said 
 Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 "What do you think about this idea?" Tom asked, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " I think," his uncle replied, " that you are probably right. 
 I see that your story has a 'perhaps' in almost every sen- 
 tence. Perhaps the man was wounded, perhaps he tried to 
 cross at the stepping-stones, perhaps he slipped, perhaps he 
 was drowned partly by the weight of the guineas he had 
 stolen, perhaps the brook washed down sand and earth 
 enough to cover him, and perhaps nobody has ever found 
 him. Here are perhapses enough and to spare, you must 
 admit." 
 
 As his uncle paused, Tom's face fell. This did not seem so 
 cordial an acquiescence as he had hoped for. 
 
 "But your theory at least fits all the facts as we know 
 them," said Mr. Rapallo, cheerfully. " It seems to me excel- 
 lent as a ' working hypothesis,' so to speak. At least it may 
 very well explain the mystery of Kerr's disappearance. And 
 if I were you I should go ahead on this line, and fight it out 
 if it takes all winter." 
 
136 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Will you help me ? " asked Tom, eagerly. 
 
 " Of course I will," his uncle responded, heartily. " What- 
 ever I can do, I will. First of all, have you any idea where 
 the current would have taken the body of the thief ? " 
 
 " Yes," Tom answered, quickly ; " I think I know — at least 
 I Ve been guessing at it. On the map the pool is shaped 
 somewhat like a figure eight, with the stepping-stones at the 
 middle in the narrow part, and with the lower end swung on 
 one side in a sort of bay ; and the brook goes on out of one 
 corner of this sort of bay. Now, it seems to me that if Kerr 
 slipped off the stepping-stones, he probably rolled to the mid- 
 dle of this lower pool — and that he is there now." 
 
 "Do you think that any one else has found his body?" 
 asked Uncle Dick. 
 
 "No," said Tom. "At least I think nobody has ever 
 thought of digging there. The brook has dried up only since 
 they began to open the streets through here. I showed you 
 where the stepping-stones are, and the little pool just below 
 them is still to be traced out — at least I can do it now I 've 
 seen the map. The trouble is that the pool is in a vacant 
 block which they have begun to fill in. The lots are 'way 
 down below the level of the street. They 've done some fill- 
 ing in, and they are going to do more soon. I went there to 
 see it just now, and I think I could see the edge of the pool 
 distinctly. But the part where I guessed the guineas were 
 has been filled in twenty feet at least." 
 
 "Does a street run across it?" Mr. Rapallo inquired. 
 "Foolish people used to think that the streets of great cities 
 
THE FATE OF JEFFREY KERR. 137 
 
 were paved with gold ; and it would be curious if there were 
 really treasure hidden down below their surfaces." 
 
 " This is n't a street/' Tom explained ; " it 's just the ordi- 
 nary filling in, with rubbish and dirt and old brickbats and 
 ashes and things. It starts about the middle of the block 
 and makes a sort of bow-window into the middle of the 
 vacant lots." 
 
 " Then how are you going to get out the golden guineas ? " 
 asked Uncle Dick. 
 
 " That 's just what I don't know," Tom answered. " I 'm 
 counting on you to help me out there." 
 
 "I 've mined for gold in California, and for silver in the 
 Black Hills, and for diamonds in South Africa," Mr. Rapallo 
 replied, with an amused smile ; " but I never supposed that 
 I should sink a shaft in the streets of New York in search of 
 buried treasure. It will be a novel experience, at any rate. 
 But we must see what we can do. This afternoon, if you 
 will take me over to the place where the pool was, I '11 have 
 a look around." 
 
 Tom arose to go. When he had opened the door he hesi- 
 tated and then said : " If you don't mind, Uncle Dick, I 'd 
 rather we did n't say anything about this < working hypothe- 
 sis ' until we know whether it will work or not." 
 
 " Certainly not," Mr. Rapallo replied. " It is always best 
 to say nothing till you have something to show. ' When in 
 doubt, hold your tongue ' — there 's a good motto." 
 
 Then he came out into the hall to Tom, and they went 
 down-stairs together to their Christmas breakfast. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 
 
 N Mrs. Paulding's family it was the tradi- 
 tion to keep Christinas and to make pres- 
 ents ; but the moderate circumstances of 
 the household prevented the purchase of 
 costly gifts. Nor was the preparation of 
 presents made by the giver allowed to be- 
 come burdensome. There are homes where the pressure of 
 Christmas giving has crushed out the proper Christmas feel- 
 ing, — where the obligation is accepted of providing every 
 other member of the household with a present which is often 
 useless and which is always expensive. Nothing of this sort 
 was seen at Mrs. Paulding's fireside. With gentle tact she 
 found out early in the fall what were the cherished desires 
 of her children ; and, in so far as her means might allow, 
 she gratified these at Christmas. They in turn consulted 
 each other and saved up their pocket-money that they might 
 give her something likely to be useful. 
 
 On this Christinas morning there was the added interest 
 of Uncle Dick's being in the house. Just what to give him 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 139 
 
 had greatly puzzled Tom and Polly, but they had at last hit 
 upon things they thought their uncle would welcome. Polly 
 made him a " housewife " to contain needles and thread and 
 buttons and tapes, and a tiny pah' of scissors. 
 
 She explained to Tom that if Uncle Dick ever went back 
 to South Africa, or even out West again among those In- 
 dians, she thought the needles and the other accompanying 
 tools of woman's craft might be very useful. 
 
 "If the real Africans," she said, "are anything like the 
 pictures in my jog., I don't believe that Uncle Dick could 
 find one of them to do his sewing for him. They can't have 
 had much practice in making buttonholes. If those pictures 
 are right, then I should n't wonder if there was n't a single 
 sewing-machine in all South Africa. So, you see, he might 
 have to mend his own clothes some day and sew on buttons. 
 Of course he 's only a man and he would n't do it well ; but, 
 all the same, I think he ought not to go away again without 
 needle and thread." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo had told them that he never knew how long 
 he would be able to stay with them. He might, at any time, 
 be called away suddenly ; and if he once went, he could not 
 guess when he should get back. 
 
 Tom had borne in mind this possibility of his uncle's trav- 
 eling, and he had gone over to Cissy Smith's, whose father 
 had given him a lathe the year before ; and with Cissy's as- 
 sistance Tom had turned a box large enough to hold a few 
 of the indispensable effects of a traveler. 
 
 When Tom and his uncle came down that Christmas morn- 
 
140 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 ing, they found Mrs. Paulding and Pauline waiting for them 
 at the breakfast- table ; and the presents were placed at the 
 plate of each member of the household. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding was always pleased with what her children 
 gave her; and she had interpreted their desires so sympa- 
 thetically that they were sure to be delighted with her pres- 
 ents to them. 
 
 Uncle Dick thanked Pauline for the housewife and Tom 
 for the box. 
 
 "What do you suppose I have for you?" he asked. Per- 
 haps he had noticed a slight shadow of disappointment on 
 their faces when they failed to find by their plates any gift 
 from him. 
 
 "I don't know/' said Tom, interested in the presents in 
 spite of his excitement over his " working hypothesis " as to 
 the whereabouts of the stolen guineas. 
 
 " But I 'm sure it will be simply lovely," volunteered Paul- 
 ine. 
 
 "Well," said Uncle Dick, "for a long while I could not 
 find out what any of you wanted ; but at last I heard Polly 
 say that she wished she was rich enough to buy her mother 
 a sewing-machine, because there were so many things she 
 wanted to make for herself. So I have got a sewing-machine 
 for Polly ; it is now upstairs in her room." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle ! " cried Polly. " Thank you ever so much ! " 
 and she jumped from her chair and ran around and kissed 
 him. 
 
 "And one day," Uncle Dick resumed, "when Tom and I 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 141 
 
 were walking' by the water, I heard him say that he wished 
 he had a telescope to look up and down the stream. Now, a 
 telescope is not so useful as a field-glass ; and if Tom will 
 look under his chair he will find a field-glass through which 
 he can see a good many miles up the Hudson." 
 
 After Tom had thanked him, Mr. Rapallo turned to his 
 sister and said, " The present I hoped to have for you, Mary, 
 is not ready yet. I may have it by New Year's — and I may 
 have to go after it. But I think you will like it when you 
 get it, and — " 
 
 " I am sure I shall, Richard," was Mrs. Paulding's response. 
 
 "And until you do get it," Uncle Dick continued, "I 
 sha'n't tell you anything at all about it." 
 
 "But — " Polly began, with a keen disappointment de- 
 picted in her face. 
 
 "But" her uncle interrupted, "you will have to possess 
 your soul in patience, for I shall not give you a hint about it 
 until you see it." 
 
 " An' quite right, too," said the Brilliant Conversationalist, 
 who was bringing in the buckwheat cakes. "The child may 
 be sure that whatever you buy, Mr. Richard, will be beauti- 
 ful. See what I found in me kitchen this mornin' " 5 and 
 she produced a pair of rather startling ear-rings that Uncle 
 Dick had bought for her. 
 
 After breakfast they all went to church ; and after dinner 
 Uncle Dick called Tom and took him off for a walk. 
 
 " I want you to show me the place where you think Jeffrey 
 Kerr lies buried, with the gold he stole from your great- 
 
14:2 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 grandfather concealed about his skeleton/' he said, as they 
 started out. 
 
 Tom led him straight to the vacant lots, iuto which from 
 about the middle of the block a tongue of made land pro- 
 jected. 
 
 " There 's where the stepping-stones were, according to this 
 map," said Tom, as he handed the paper to his uncle. " That 
 big boulder there used to be one of them, I think ; and as far 
 as I can make out, those two other high rocks over there be- 
 longed to them, too." 
 
 It took Mr. Rapallo but a short time to familiarize himself 
 with the ground before him and to identify it with that 
 sketched out in the rough but fairly accurate map which he 
 held in his hand. As yet there was hardly a house within 
 two or three blocks on either side ; and in one of the adjoin- 
 ing blocks also, below the street-level, it was not difficult to 
 trace the course of the brook, partly by the stones and partly 
 by the stumps of the broken willows which had lined its 
 banks here and there. The outline of the pool below the 
 stepping-stones was less easy to make out, but at last Mr. 
 Rapallo and Tom were able to identify its limits to their 
 satisfaction. 
 
 "Where do you think the deep part of the pool was?" 
 asked Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Here," said Tom, as he pointed to a stone which projected 
 a little from the edge of the peninsula of filled land. "I 
 think that is the tip of a tall rock marked in the map ; and 
 if it is, then the deep part of the pool was just behind that," 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 143 
 
 " That is to say," his uncle rejoined, " if the body of Jef- 
 frey Ken* is here at all, it is buried somewhere near the base 
 of that stone ? " 
 
 " Yes," Tom answered ; " don't you think so ? " 
 
 " I think your enthusiasm is catching," Uncle Dick replied • 
 " and now I am here on the spot, I begin to believe that the 
 stolen gold is down there somewhere, almost under our feet. 
 By the way, how far down do you suppose it is ? " 
 
 " I 've been thinking about that," Tom returned, " and I 
 believe that the skeleton must be several feet below the level 
 of the bottom of the old pool, as it is now — perhaps only a 
 foot or so, and perhaps three or four." 
 
 "And the part of the pool near the rock there is buried 
 under at least ten feet of dirt, ashes, and all sorts of builder's 
 rubbish. It won't be easy for us to excavate this to prospect 
 for that gold." 
 
 " Suppose we go down and look at it," Tom suggested. 
 
 His uncle started down -the steep incline and the boy 
 followed. At the point where the rock stood, the level 
 of the lot was fully twenty feet below the surface of the 
 street ; and farther down, nearer the river, it sloped away 
 still deeper. In the hollows here and there the snow lin- 
 gered, dry and harsh beneath then* feet. The ground was 
 frozen hard. 
 
 •' There is no use in our trying to do anything here until 
 there is a thaw," Mr. Rapallo declared. "In fact, I think 
 that it will be best to postpone our serious effort to excavate 
 until spring." 
 
144 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " And when spring comes will you be here, Uncle Dick ? " 
 Tom asked, eagerly. 
 
 " That 's more than I can say, Tom," he answered. " It 
 depends — well, it depends on many things." 
 
 "And in spring how are we going to dig out all that 
 dirt ? " Tom inquired. 
 
 "I don't know how we shall do it," Mr. Rapallo replied. 
 " But you will find a way out of that difficulty, I 'm sure. 
 What I wonder about is whether we shall be able to get per- 
 mission to dig here." 
 
 " Shall we have to ask leave ? " cried Tom, in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " It is n't our land, is it ? " answered his uncle. 
 
 " But it is our money," Tom urged in response. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo smiled. " The money is yours, no doubt," he 
 said ; " but it will be best for you to get the right to see if it 
 is buried here." 
 
 " And suppose we can't get it ? " Tom demanded. 
 
 " We '11 discuss that when the permission is refused. Don't 
 cross the stream till you get there. In the mean time I '11 
 look up the owner of this land — " 
 
 " But I don't know who owns it," said Tom. 
 
 " I can find out all about it, down-town to-morrow ; and 
 that 's the first thing to do. It is our duty at least to try to 
 get permission to enter on another man's land. As you grow 
 older, Tom, you will find that the short cut is the straight 
 way." 
 
 That evening, when they were finishing their supper, there 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 145 
 
 came a sudden clang of bells and the rattling rash of a fire- 
 engine. 
 
 " There 's a fire ! " cried Tom, with an appealing look at 
 his mother. Tom had the American boy's intense fondness 
 for going to see fires ; but his mother did not like to have 
 him run after the engine at night, as many other lads were 
 allowed to do. 
 
 "I pity the poor people whose house it is!" said Mrs. 
 Paulding, not replying to Tom's glance of appeal. 
 
 "It 's a long while since I have seen a fire here," Uncle 
 Dick remarked, rising from the table. " I think I shall go 
 and take a look at it. Would you like to come, too, Tom ? " 
 
 " Would n't I just "? " Tom replied, as the hose-carriage rat- 
 tled past the house in hot pursuit of its engine. " May I go, 
 mother ? " 
 
 "Let him come with me," said Uncle Dick. "I '11 keep 
 guard over him, and I '11 return liim right side up with care." 
 
 " Wrap yourself up well, Tom," said his mother. 
 
 " I wish I was a boy and could go to fires," declared Paul- 
 ine. " When I 'm grown up I shall live next door to an en- 
 gine-house, and I '11 make friends with the firemen, and when 
 there 's a great, big fire, I '11 get them to let me ride on the 
 engine." 
 
 As Uncle Dick and Tom were leaving the house, Mr. Ra- 
 pallo turned back and said to his sister : 
 
 " Mary, don't be uneasy about this boy, and don't sit up for 
 him. If there 's anything to see, I shall not hurry back, and 
 Tom will stay with me." 
 13 
 
146 
 
 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 It was lucky that Mrs. Paulding had thus been warned, as 
 her brother and her son returned to the house long after 
 midnight. 
 
 By the fiery track of the glowing sparks which the engine 
 
 UNCLE DICK AND TOM GO TO THE FIRE. 
 
 had left behind it, Mr. Rapallo and Tom were able to go 
 direct to the conflagration, one of the largest ever seen on 
 that part of Manhattan Island. The fire had begun, no one 
 knew how, in a new warehouse, which had recently been 
 completed at the water's edge, between the railroad and a 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 147 
 
 narrow wharf built out into the river. This building, half 
 filled with combustible goods, was blazing fiercely when Uncle 
 Dick and Tom came out at the upper end of the Riverside 
 Drive, where they could look down into the fiery furnace on 
 the bank of the frozen river below. 
 
 Tom found Cissy Smith standing there with his father; 
 and while Dr. Smith and Mr. Rapallo renewed their acquaint- 
 ance, broken off since Uncle Dick had last been in Denver, 
 five years before, Cissy greeted Tom heartily. 
 
 " That 's a bully old fire, is n't it? " he cried. 
 
 " It 's the biggest I 've ever seen/' Tom responded. 
 
 From the first the firemen seemed hopeless of saving the 
 warehouse where the fire had started, for the flames had 
 gained full control over it before a single engine was able to 
 throw a stream on it. There was difficulty in getting water, 
 as more than one hydrant was frozen solid ; it took precious 
 time to thaw them out by building bonfires all over them. 
 The center of the river was- still open and the ice inshore 
 was not so thick that a resolute steamboat could not crush 
 through it. Soon after Tom and Cissy had taken their places 
 to see the spectacle, a fire-boat came up the river and forced 
 its way through the ice till it stopped almost alongside the 
 burning building. Leaving this boat to attend to the ware- 
 house, the firemen ashore turned their attention chiefly to 
 preventing the spread of the conflagration. There was a 
 lumber-yard, piled high with boards and planks, within a 
 hundred feet of the blazing storehouse, and the saving of this 
 was a work of great difficulty. The labor of the firemen was 
 
148 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 made doubly severe by a chill wind which blew up the river, 
 carrying the flames toward the tall piles of planks, scattering 
 sparks over the neighboring houses, and freezing the water 
 almost as it left the nozles of the hose. Despite the intense 
 heat of the burning building, long icicles began to descend 
 from every projecting plank in the yard, and the firemen 
 were soon clad in a frozen coat of mail, stiff and crackling 
 as the wearers went about their work. 
 
 While the two boys were standing there on the hilltop, en- 
 joying the magnificent spectacle, with no thought of the cost 
 at which it was provided, and accepting it as a sort of unex- 
 pected and superior Fourth-of-July celebration, Corkscrew 
 Lott came twisting up the hill toward them, as fast as his 
 high boots would carry him. As he drew near it seemed to 
 Tom that Lott was taller than ever. 
 
 " He 's getting on for six feet," said Tom, involuntarily. 
 
 " ' 111 weeds grow apace/ " returned Cissy ; " at least that 's 
 what my father says." 
 
 " I say, Cissy," cried Lott, approaching hastily, " where 's 
 your father ? " 
 
 "He 's here," Cissy answered. " What 's the matter?" 
 
 " They want the doctor quick, down at little Jimmy Wig- 
 ger's aunt's," Lott replied. 
 
 " Who 's hurt?" Tom asked. 
 
 " It 's little Jimmy himself," Lott responded. " His aunt 
 sent him out on an errand, and he did n't look sharp, and 
 one of the engines came around a corner and ran over him, 
 and they think he 's broken something inside." 
 
CHRISTMAS MORNING AND CHRISTMAS NIGHT. 149 
 
 Cissy told his father, and under Corkscrew's guidance Dr. 
 Smith and his son went off to the house of little Jimmy's 
 aunt. 
 
 Tom and Uncle Dick stood watching the fire that was leap- 
 ing higher than ever, in despite of the long curves of water 
 which spent themselves in vain in their attack on it. The 
 steam from the engines rose white in the night air, and the 
 ruddy glare of the fire colored the arching lines of water that 
 the steamboat poured into the burning building. 
 
 " There 's a sort of likeness in this operation," said Uncle 
 Dick, " to hydraulic mining. At Monotony Dam, in Califor- 
 nia, I have seen a bigger stream than all those put together ; 
 and, when the full head of water was turned on, it would eat 
 into the side of a hill and wash out the pay-gravel by the 
 ton." 
 
 Tom, being greatly interested by this remark, was about 
 to ask for an explanation of the methods of hydraulic mining, 
 when his uncle turned to him suddenly. 
 
 " Tom," he said, hastily, " come to think of it, that 's the 
 way you may get at that buried treasure of yours." 
 
 "How?" asked Tom. 
 
 " We '11 turn on a stream of water and wash the guineas 
 out of that bank of rubbish. 1 7 ve done a good many odd 
 things in my life, first and last, but I confess it will be a 
 novel experience to try hydraulic mining for gold right here 
 in the streets of New York ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE CURLS. 
 
 R. RAPALLO and Tom were so interested 
 in the fire that they were very late in get- 
 ting to bed. For the first time in his life 
 Tom " heard the chimes at midnight/' or 
 at least he heard the bell in the tower of a 
 church near by strike twelve. It was a 
 clear winter night; there was not a cloud in the heavens, 
 but there was no moon, and the sky was dark as if the freez- 
 ing wind had blown out the stars, which twinkled, chill and 
 remote. In this murk midnight, black and cold, the mighty 
 bonfire by the water's edge blazed away, rolling dense masses 
 of smoke up the river and affording a delightful spectacle to 
 those who were unthinking enough to forget its cost. 
 
 It was after one o'clock when Uncle Dick and Tom re- 
 turned home. Everybody had gone to bed hours before; 
 but Mrs. Paulding's quick ear recognized her boy's footstep 
 on the stairs as he went up to his room. 
 
 Five minutes after he entered the house he was in bed and 
 asleep. Indeed, it seemed as if he was in his first nap when 
 there came a rap on the door, and Katie's voice was heard. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE CURLS. 151 
 
 " Get up out o' that bed, Master Tom. Sure it 's gettin' 
 cold the breakfast is, an' it 's the buckwheat cakes ye like 
 that ye 're missin'. Mr. Richard has been 'atin' away this 
 last half hour." 
 
 Thus aroused and besought, Tom got out of bed and 
 dressed sleepily. Even when he took his seat at the break- 
 fast-table he was not yet wide awake. 
 
 To his great surprise Uncle Dick looked as fresh as if he 
 had had ten hours' rest. 
 
 " Oh, Tom," cried Polly, "you are very late ! " 
 
 "Better late than never," Tom replied, cheerfully but 
 drowsily, as he helped himself to the buckwheat cakes. 
 
 " You 've got sleep in your eyes still," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " I shall be all right in a minute," Tom declared. " I sup- 
 pose it is the light that makes my eyes blink." 
 
 "I don't know how you would manage if you were on a 
 long march," Uncle Dick went on, "when you had to walk 
 twenty hours out of twenty-four for three or four days 
 together." 
 
 " I could n't manage it at all," Tom confessed ; " that is, not 
 without training for it. I suppose that one can train for 
 anything, even for going without sleep." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo laughed. "I should n't like to make trial of 
 that. I think the result would be not unlike the experience 
 of the man who believed that eating was all a matter of 
 habit, and that a horse could be gradually accustomed to live 
 on nothing. Unfortunately for the success of the experiment, 
 just when he was getting the horse trained down — it died." 
 
152 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Oh," said Polly, " I don't see how people can ever be so 
 cruel to horses or dogs or cats. It 's hateful." 
 
 " Experiments are rarely pleasant for those on whom they 
 are tried," Uncle Dick returned. " They are like practical 
 jokes, in that respect." 
 
 When Tom had finished his breakfast, his mother left the 
 dining-room for a conference with the Brilliant Conversa- 
 tionalist. Her son stood for a moment before the fireplace. 
 
 " I think that you had better go upstairs again and take 
 another nap," suggested his uncle, noticing how the boy's 
 eyes were closing involuntarily. 
 
 " I 'm not very sleepy," Tom asserted, rousing himself with 
 an effort. " Besides, I could n't go to sleep if I wanted to. 
 Cissy Smith and a lot more boys are going coasting this 
 morning. Cissy is coming for me." 
 
 There was a lounge on one side of the dining-room. Tom 
 walked over to it with affected unconcern. 
 
 " I 've nothing to do to-day," he exclaimed, " and I think 
 I '11 just lie down here and shut my eyes till the boys come." 
 
 Pauline slipped off her uncle's knees and drew a shawl over 
 Tom as he lay on the lounge. 
 
 " Marmee says," she remarked, sagely, as she did this, " that 
 you must never go to sleep without something over you." 
 
 " But I 'm not going to sleep," Tom declared. 
 
 The little girl pulled the shawl up to his shoulders and 
 tucked it in. Then she stood for a moment at the head of 
 the lounge, smoothing her brother's hair. 
 
 " I wish I had curls like yours, Tom," she said ; " they 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE CURLS. 153 
 
 would be so becoming on a girl, and they are just wasted on 
 you." 
 
 " Pauline," her uncle called to her, gently, " better leave 
 your brother alone and let him have his nap." 
 
 " I don't want a nap," asserted Tom, as he turned over • 
 and in less than sixty seconds the regularity of his breathing 
 was very like a snore. 
 
 Uncle Dick laughed gently. " The boy was up late last 
 night. No wonder he can't keep awake." 
 
 He parted with Polly at the door. 
 
 "Good-by, Polly," he said, "I 'm going down-town — to 
 work." 
 
 "Have n't you any Christmas holidays?" she asked, sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 " No," her uncle answered. "The Christmas vacation is 
 intended only for boys and girls, because they have had to 
 labor hard over their lessons all the fall. Of course grown- 
 up men don't work so much, and therefore they don't need 
 it." 
 
 " Then I 'm glad I 'm not going to be a grown-up man," 
 returned Pauline. 
 
 After her uncle had gone she patted Tom's curls, trying to 
 smooth them and then disarranging them completely — with- 
 out in any way disturbing his sound slumber. 
 
 " How they do curl ! " she thought. " I wonder if I could 
 make them curl the other way." 
 
 So she got half a dozen little pieces of paper and began to 
 twist her brother's locks up in them. He still slept on. She 
 
154 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 was careful not to pull the distorted curls. In a few minutes 
 Tom's head was covered with half a dozen little twists of 
 paper. 
 
 "I do wonder, really," she said to herself, "whether that 
 will take any of his curls out of curl, or whether it will make 
 them curl the other way. It will be most curious to see." 
 
 She moved across the room to judge of the possible effect ; 
 and then her mother called to her and she flitted lightly up- 
 stairs, leaving her brother fast asleep, all unconscious of the 
 adornment of his head with little twisted bits of paper. 
 
 Tom lay there for nearly an hour, and then he was 
 awakened by the signal of the Black Band outside the 
 window. 
 
 It was not until Cissy Smith had whistled twice that Tom 
 was aroused sufficiently to understand that his friend had 
 come for him. 
 
 He sprang from the lounge and rushed into the hall. He 
 put on his cap and, while he was getting his overcoat but- 
 toned, he opened the door and returned the signal. 
 
 "Is that your new sled?" he cried, as he came out and 
 found Cissy Smith waiting for him. " It 's a beauty ! " 
 
 "It 's my best Christmas present," Cissy declared. 
 " Father had it made for me at the same place one was made 
 for him when he was a boy. You can't buy them anywhere ; 
 you have to order them a year ahead." 
 
 The sled was worthy of praise. It was a shapely and 
 seemly piece of work. It stood high from the ground on two 
 firm but delicate runners, shod and braced with steel. Its 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE CURLS. 155 
 
 slender length was not disfigured by paint, but the tough 
 wood showed clear-grained through the white varnish. 
 
 After the sled had been duly admired, Tom and Cissy set 
 out for the hillside where they were to coast. 
 
 At the first corner, they met Lott and Harry Zachary ; 
 and other boys joined them as they went on. 
 
 Lott asked Cissy, " How is little Jimmy Wigger this morn- 
 ing ? " and he twisted himself into an interrogation-mark in 
 his anxiety to get all the details of the sad story. 
 
 Cissy reported that the little boy was not improving. 
 
 " If his back is hurt," suggested Harry Zachary, gently, " I 
 reckon the doctors will have to cut out his backbone, may- 
 be, or amputate both his legs." 
 
 " Pop says that little Jimmy is going to have a close call," 
 Cissy Smith declared, conscious of the advantage he had in 
 being the doctor's son. 
 
 " A call, eh ? " Harry Zachary returned. " Well, I reckon 
 he 's right. We ought to- go over and see how he is this 
 morning." 
 
 " Pop says he is n't any better," Cissy Smith asserted. 
 
 tt We 're not calling to find out how he is, but just out of 
 manners," explained Harry. 
 
 " Then come along," replied Cissy, lurching ahead in his 
 usual rolling gait. 
 
 " And when they tell him we 've been there," Tom inter- 
 jected, " perhaps it will make him feel better." 
 
 "Do you suppose that they will really cut off his legs?" 
 asked Lott. 
 
156 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Corkscrew would n't like to have his legs cut off," Tom. 
 remarked, at large, " because he ' keeps his brains in his 
 boots.' " 
 
 The boys greeted with a hearty laugh this allusion to a 
 recent remark of one of the school-teachers about Lott — a 
 remark which was nearer the truth than the teacher suspected. 
 
 Lott's insatiate curiosity did not extend to his lessons at 
 school. In these he took no interest whatever. He rarely 
 studied. In his recitations he relied on the help of the boys 
 who might be next to him and on even less lawful aids. He 
 had picked up a key to the arithmetic used in the school ; 
 and this illegal assistant to recitation he used to take into 
 class with him every day ; at least, he took with him the one 
 or two pages containing the answers needed in the lesson of 
 the day. These loose leaves he concealed in a secret place 
 feasible only to himself, — for no one else wore such tall boots. 
 The tops of these boots projected above his knees when he 
 sat down ; and behind the shields thus erected Corkscrew 
 placed the needed pages of the key. The room in which 
 arithmetic was taught was overcrowded; and Corkscrew's 
 recent sudden growth, and his strange habit of twisting about, 
 and his enormous boots, all made him conspicuous. It was 
 as if he was taking up more than his share of the room. The 
 teacher especially disliked the boots, and various remarks 
 were directed against them. The last of these remarks was 
 to the effect that "there is no use saying anything more 
 about Lott's boots ; he will not part with them ; I believe he 
 keeps his brains in those boots." 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE CUKLS. 157 
 
 When Tom Paulding recalled this remark of the teacher's, 
 Lott did not like it. But he could think of no other retort 
 than to say, " You are ever so smart, you are ! " 
 
 As Tom failed to reply to this taunt, it seemed less effect- 
 ive than Corkscrew could have desired. 
 
 The boys had now come to the brow of the hill down which 
 they were to coast. 
 
 In default of any more cutting response to the remark 
 about the boots, Lott seized Tom's cap and threw it as far as 
 he could down the hillside. 
 
 If Tom Paulding had not made Corkscrew angry by 
 an unprovoked allusion, he would not have exposed him- 
 self to this sudden exhibition of his own head with its 
 adornment of little twists of paper — all unknown to Tom 
 himself. 
 
 "Who curled your hah-?" asked Cissy, when the cap was 
 plucked from Tom's head. 
 
 "What do you mean?" cried Tom, partly to Lott and 
 partly to Cissy. 
 
 By this time Lott, who had been watching the cap as it 
 circled through the air and then slid along the glassy surface 
 of the slide, had caught sight of the half-dozen bits of paper 
 which bedecked Tom's head. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! " he cried, " I told you Tom put his hair up in 
 paper ! " 
 
 " I don't," said Tom. 
 
 " Don't you ? " shouted Lott, forcibly. " You tell that to a 
 blind man. We can see for ourselves." 
 14 
 
158 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I never curled my liair in my life ! " Tom declared. 
 
 " Then who put it up in paper for you this morning, 
 Tom f " was Corkscrew's triumphant question. 
 
 Involuntarily Tom raised his hand to his head, and he felt 
 the little twists of paper. The boys laughed, — even Cissy 
 Smith, Tom's best friend, and not an admirer of Lott's, 
 joined in the merriment. Tom felt his face burning red as 
 he pulled out the papers. 
 
 Then he turned to Lott, 
 
 " Go get my cap," he said, angrily. 
 
 "I won't," answered Lott. "If you had n't said anything 
 about my boots, I should n't have touched your cap. And 
 I 'm glad I did now, for I 've shown everybody how you get 
 your pretty curls." 
 
 " Will you get that cap ? " repeated Tom. 
 
 " No, I won't," Lott replied. 
 
 " Then I '11 make you," said Tom. 
 
 "I 'd like to see you do it," was Lott's retort — although 
 this was exactly what he would not like to see. 
 
 There is no need to describe a boys' quarrel after it ends 
 in an appeal to arms — and fists. The battle between Tom 
 Paulding and Corkscrew Lott began promptly, and, for a 
 while, its issue was in doubt. Lott was older than Tom, and 
 taller and heavier ; but, of late, he had been growing beyond 
 his strength. In the end, Tom had the best of it. But Cork- 
 screw did not go after Tom's cap. This gage of battle had 
 been brought back by one of the smaller boys during a pause 
 in the fight. So it happened that Tom's was but a barren 
 
#'' : >t ; V M 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE CURLS. 161 
 
 victory — like nearly all those a boy gains except when he 
 conquers himself. 
 
 Lott and several friends of his went away to coast down 
 another hill. Tom, when he had recovered his wind and 
 stanched his wounds, joined in the sport with Cissy and 
 Harry Zachary. But when he left the slide and went home 
 to his dinner, he bore with him the scars of war in the shape 
 of a swollen face and an unmistakable black eye. 
 

 
 
 
 V;\-^ 
 
 d!Ci 
 
 MfifffiJ' 
 
 hBKJ 
 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A new-year's-day departure. 
 
 OM did not quite know what to do about 
 his black eye. He knew that his mother 
 would see it, and then she would be sure to 
 ask him about it, and he would have to tell 
 her the whole story. That she would not 
 approve of the fight Tom felt sure ; and he was a little in 
 doubt whether he himself quite approved of it. He had 
 often thought that sooner or later he and Corkscrew would 
 have to "have it out" ; and if the combat had been really 
 inevitable, he was glad that it was over and that he had not 
 come out of it second-best. But even in the glow of victory, 
 he did not feel altogether satisfied with the way in which war 
 had been declared nor with his own conduct in the begin- 
 ning. His reference to Lott's keeping his brains in his boots 
 was altogether uncalled for. It is true that Corkscrew's 
 throwing of the cap down-hill had slight justification. But, 
 all the same, Tom had an uneasy consciousness that the real 
 cause of the anger that had burned so fiercely in his breast 
 was in great measure the keen mortification arising from 
 
A NEW-YEAR'S-DAY DEPARTURE. 1C3 
 
 the disclosure of liis hair curled up in paper. And Tom knew 
 that it was Polly who had bedecked his head with twists of 
 paper, and not Corkscrew. Still they would never have been 
 seen had it not been for Corkscrew. And so, after all — 
 
 Tom had gone thus far in the examination of his conscience 
 when he reached home. 
 
 As the Careful Katie opened the door, she caught sight of 
 the black eye. 
 
 " Oh, Master Tom ! " she cried, "is it in a fight ye 've 
 been?" 
 
 "Yes," Tom answered. "I Ve been in a fight." 
 
 " Come into the kitchen, then," she went on, heartily, " and 
 I '11 give ye a bit of beefsteak to put on yer eye. An' ye can 
 tell me all about the fight the while. Sure, beefsteak is the 
 wan thing for a black eye. It 's many a time me brothers 
 would have liked a bit, a-comin' back from a fair in Killaloo, 
 or a wake, or any other merrymakin'." 
 
 Tom was following the Brilliant Conversationalist into the 
 kitchen, when Pauline came dancing out into the hall. 
 
 " Oh, Tom," she cried, " what do you think ? We 've three 
 new kittens, one black, and one white with a black eye, and 
 one all gray — ever so pretty. And Marmee says I may keep 
 the gray one, and I 'm going to. The one that 's white with 
 the black eye is smaller and cunninger, but I don't like a 
 white kitten with a black eye, do you "? It looks just as if it 
 had been fighting, and of course it has n't yet, for it 's only 
 two hours old." 
 
 Tom smiled grimly. " I 'd keep the one with the black 
 
164: TOM PAULDING. 
 
 eye," he said, as he followed Katie into the kitchen, " and you 
 might call it after me." And with that he turned his head 
 so that she could see his face. 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! " Polly exclaimed. " You look worse than the 
 kitten — ever so much worse ! " 
 
 " Perhaps," said Tom, dolefully, " when the kitten gets a 
 little older, you will put its tail up in curl-papers ; and then 
 it will go out, and come back again with a black eye bigger 
 than mine." 
 
 " It would be cruel to twist up a cat's tail ! " she declared. 
 
 " Was n't it cruel to let me go out with my hair in curl- 
 papers ? " he rejoined. 
 
 " Did you ? " she cried, penitently. " Oh, Tom, I 'm so 
 sorry ! I did n't mean to. I never thought. I '11 never do 
 it again ; I '11 be so good next time. I don't see how I ever 
 came to do it. Won't you forgive me this time ? " 
 
 Tom made haste to forgive her when he saw how sorrow- 
 ful she looked. 
 
 Then the Brilliant Conversationalist came with a bit of raw 
 beef and placed this to the injured eye and tied it tight with 
 Tom's handkerchief bound about his head. 
 
 "There," she said, "that '11 draw out the poison for you. 
 Now tell us about the fight. Did ye bate the head off the 
 villain ? " 
 
 Then Tom, half pleased and half ashamed, told his sister 
 and Katie all about the combat with Corkscrew Lott. 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! " Pauline cried suddenly, " what will Marmee 
 say?" 
 
A NEW-YEAR'S -DAY DEPARTURE. 165 
 
 "I don't know," replied Tom, doubtfully. "She won't 
 like it." 
 
 " Shall I go and break the news to her gently, as they do 
 in the story-books f " suggested his sister. 
 
 " No," Tom answered ; " I 'd better tell her myself." 
 
 " I '11 go with you," Pauline persisted ; " and I '11 tell her it 
 was all my fault." 
 
 " No," Tom replied again, " I 'd better go alone." 
 
 So he took heart of grace, and went up to his mother's room 
 and placed before her the whole story ; not trying to shield 
 himself, but as well as he could telling the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but the truth. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding was a wise mother. She saw that her son 
 had been punished ; she did not reproach him, but she spoke 
 to him gently, and when she had ceased speaking Tom had 
 made up his mind never to get into another fight. Then she 
 kissed him, and they went down together to their early 
 dinner. 
 
 That evening, when Uncle Dick returned, the whole story 
 had to be gone over once more. It is to be recorded with 
 regret that Mr. Rapallo laughed heartily when he heard about 
 the curls which Polly put up in paper and which Corkscrew 
 revealed accidentally. 
 
 "Best keep out of a fight if you can," he said when he 
 had heard the full details ; " but if you must fight, go in 
 to win." 
 
 " I don't think I shall go in again," Tom declared, looking 
 up at his mother with an affectionate glance, which would 
 
1G6 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 have been more effective if the black eye had not been still 
 covered by the bit of beefsteak and the handkerchief. 
 
 "Sure if he goes to a wake, any dacent boy may have to 
 swing his shillalah about a bit," the Careful Katie remarked, 
 as she left the room for the preserves. 
 
 " The Brilliant Conversationalist is in favor of a free fight," 
 Uncle Dick declared. " But I '11 give you a Spanish proverb 
 better than her Hibernian advice — and there is no more hon- 
 orable race than the Spanish, and no one is more punctilious 
 than a Spaniard. Yet they have a saying, 'It is the man 
 who returns the first blow who begins the quarrel.' " 
 
 After supper, Mrs. Paulding and Pauline went upstairs, 
 leaving Mr. Rapallo and Tom alone together. 
 
 " I Ve been looking up the ownership of that property 
 where you think your guineas are," said Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Did you find out ? " Tom asked, eagerly. 
 
 " I found that the land is in dispute," his uncle replied. 
 "The title to it is doubtful, and there has been a lawsuit 
 about it in the courts now for nearly ten years." 
 
 " But it must belong to some one," Tom insisted. 
 
 "It 's likely to belong to the lawyers, if this litigation 
 does n't stop soon," Uncle Dick answered. Then he explained 
 how it was : 
 
 "The case seems to be complicated; there was an assign- 
 ment of some sort made by the original owner fifty years ago ; 
 and now there are two mortgages and two wills, and half a 
 dozen codicils. And all the parties are angry, and there is 
 ' blood on the moon.' So I 'm afraid that when we get ready 
 
A NEW-YEAR'S -DAY DEPARTURE. 167 
 
 to dig for that buried treasure, we shall have to do it without 
 asking anybody's permission. In the first place, we don't 
 know whom to ask ; and in the second place, whoever we ask 
 would surely suspect us of coming from one of the other 
 parties, and would not only refuse but perhaps set a guard 
 on the property or have detectives watch us." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Tom, and he was conscious of a certain swell- 
 ing pride at the possibility that there might be a detective 
 " on his track," as he phrased it. 
 
 " Of course," Mr. Rapallo continued, " as long as the 
 frost 's in the ground there is no use in our trying to do any- 
 thing. In the meanwhile, you will say nothing." 
 
 "Not even to Cissy Smith?" Tom urged, aware of the de- 
 light that he would have in imparting this real mystery to his 
 friend. 
 
 "Not even to anybody," Uncle Dick answered. "If Cissy 
 were to tell some one, you could n't blame him for not keep- 
 ing the secret you could n't keep yourself." 
 
 Tom felt the force of this reasoning, but he regretted that 
 his uncle thought it best not to tell Cissy. Tom felt sure of 
 Cissy's discretion, and he longed to have some one with whom 
 to talk over the buried treasure. Thus early in life Tom was 
 made to see the wisdom in the saying of the philosopher, 
 that a secret is a most undesirable property, for " if you tell 
 it, you have n't got it ; and if you don't tell it, you lose the 
 interest on the investment." 
 
 The next afternoon, as Tom was coming back from asking 
 how little Jimmy Wigger was getting on, he saw Mr. Ra- 
 
168 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 pallo standing on the stoop of Mr. Joshua Hoffmann's house 
 talking to the old gentleman he had before seen leaning over 
 the wall. Tom supposed that the Old Gentleman who leaned 
 over the Wall, as he called him in his own mind, was proba- 
 bly Mr. Hoffmann himself, but he was not quite sure of it. 
 
 Once again before New Year's Day, Tom saw his uncle in 
 conference with the Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall. 
 Tom noticed that about this time Mr. Rapallo was a little 
 more restless than usual ; and then again that he would ink 
 into frequent fits of thoughtful silence. 
 
 On New Year's morning, Mr. Rapallo caught Tom's eye, 
 after Tom had spoken twice without bringing him out of his 
 silent abstraction. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Tom," he said ; "I was thinking. The 
 fact is, I 've got the idea of a little invention buzzing in my 
 head, and I keep turning it over and over, and looking at it 
 on all sides, even when I ought to be doing something else — 
 eating my breakfast, for example." 
 
 They were then at their morning meal ; and just at that 
 moment the shrill whistle of the postman was heard. 
 
 " There does be only one letter-man this mornin', I 'm 
 thinkin'," said the Brilliant Conversationalist, as she went out 
 to see what the postman had for them. 
 
 "There may be a letter for me," Uncle Dick remarked, 
 " that will take me away to-night." 
 
 " You are not going to leave us? " cried Polly. 
 
 " I may have to go," her uncle answered. 
 
 " Where ? " she asked. 
 
A NEW-YEAR'S-DAY DEPARTURE. 1G9 
 
 "On a journey — to lots of places/' he replied. 
 
 " How long will you be gone ? " she went on. 
 
 " I don't know. Two or three months, perhaps," he an- 
 swered. Then, catching Tom's inquiring glance, he added, 
 " I shall be back by the time the frost is out of the ground. 
 I 'm like a bad penny, I 'm sure to turn up again." 
 
 " You are not a bad penny at all," said Polly, with empha- 
 sis. " You are as good as gold, and a penny is only copper. 
 And if you have to go, we shall all miss you very, very much ! " 
 Then she got up and walked around the table and kissed her 
 uncle on the cheek. 
 
 Katie returned and gave Uncle Dick the only letter she 
 had in her hand. 
 
 " The letter-man says he does n't be comin' here again to- 
 day, mum, but ye can give him his New Year's in the morn- 
 in'," she reported. 
 
 " Must you go ? " asked Mrs. Paulding, who had watched 
 her brother's face as he read the note. 
 
 " Yes. I must start this afternoon at the latest," he an- 
 swered. " It is to see a man about this little invention of 
 mine. If he likes it, we shall work it out together. Then, 
 when I come back in the spring, Mary, I hope to bring you 
 that Christmas present I owe you." 
 
 When Mr. Rapallo left the house, about twelve o'clock, 
 Tom went with him to the nearest elevated-railroad station. 
 Uncle Dick did not walk this time, as he had a heavy bag to 
 carry. 
 
 15 
 
170 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 After Mr. Rapallo and Tom had stepped down upon the 
 sidewalk, from the flight of wooden steps leading from the 
 street up to the rocky crest on which the house was perched, 
 they saw Cissy Smith. He was coming eagerly toward them. 
 
 " Have you heard the news about little Jimmy f " asked 
 Cissy. 
 
 " No," Tom replied. " What is it ? " 
 
 "He died this morning early," Cissy continued. "Father 
 was there. Little Jimmy did not suffer any. And he 
 could n't ever have been strong again." 
 
 " Poor little chap ! " said Tom, thinking of the eagerness of 
 the little fellow as he had followed Tom about ready to do 
 his bidding, whatever it might be. 
 
 " The years bring joy to some and sorrow to others," Mr. 
 Rapallo remarked gently ; " but it is a sad house to which 
 Death pays a New Year's call." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOM HAS PATIENCE. 
 
 WO days after' New Year's, little Jimmy 
 Wigger was buried, and all the boys of the 
 Black Band attended the funeral. Eight 
 of them, including- Tom Paulding, Cissy 
 Smith, G. W. Lott, and Harry Zachary, 
 were asked to be pall-bearers. Tom long- 
 remembered his silent walk by the side of the coffin as one 
 of the saddest duties he had ever performed. 
 
 The next Monday school beg-an again, and Tom went back 
 to work. Now that he believed he knew where the stolen 
 guineas were, and now that he expected to recover them with 
 his uncle's assistance, his hope of being able to go to the 
 School of Mines increased, and he studied harder than ever 
 before that he might fit himself as soon as possible for this 
 new undertaking. Unless something happened to help Mrs. 
 Paulding, Tom knew that at the end of the year he would 
 have to give up his aspirations and take a place in a store, 
 that his earnings might contribute to the support of the 
 family. If he coidd find the buried treasure, he felt sure that 
 
172 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 the money would suffice to tide over the difficulties of the 
 household until after he had been through the School of 
 Mines, and was able to make his living as a man, and to sup- 
 port his mother and sister on his income as an engineer. 
 During the Christmas vacation, after his uncle had gone, 
 Tom had walked down to Columbia College and had found 
 out the requirements for admission. He believed that he 
 could pass the examination the next year, late in the spring, 
 if he could keep on with his studies until then. And whether 
 he could do this or not depended now absolutely on the find- 
 ing of the two thousand guineas stolen from Ins great-grand- 
 father. 
 
 At the house, they all missed Uncle Dick. In the two 
 months that Mr. Rapallo had spent at Mrs. Paulding's he 
 had made himself quite at home, and they had come to look 
 on him as a permanent member of the family. Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing had greatly enjoyed the long quiet talks she had had 
 with her brother after her children were gone to bed. Paul- 
 ine missed a playfellow always ready to join in her sports and 
 always quick to devise a fresh game. Even the Brilliant 
 Conversationalist grieved over Mr. Rapallo's departure. Cer- 
 tain little dishes of which he had been especially fond she 
 ceased to serve, explaining that she would make these again 
 " after Mr. Richard do be back." 
 
 But Tom missed him most of all. He felt lonely without 
 Uncle Dick, who was older than he by nearty thirty years, yet 
 who was always able to look at things from his point of 
 view. The man and the boy had been very companionable, 
 
TOM HAS PATIENCE. 173 
 
 one to the other. Until long afterward, Tom did not know 
 how much his character had been influenced by the example 
 of his Uncle Dick, and how much Mr. Rapallo's shrewd aud 
 pithy talks had affected his views of life. 
 
 What Tom most needed was some one with whom he could 
 discuss the buried treasure. He was young, and youth is 
 sanguine ; and he felt sure that the stolen guineas were really 
 where he thought they were. But he wanted to have some 
 one to whom he could talk about them, so as to keep up his 
 own enthusiasm. There were days, during the absence of 
 Uncle Dick, when it was very difficult for Tom not to tell 
 Cissy Smith, despite Mr. Rapallo's warning. The secret 
 burned within him and sometimes it almost burst forth of its 
 own accord. Tom was strong enough to resist the tempta- 
 tion. He did not like to have to confess to his uncle that 
 he had disregarded the warning. Besides, he was a little in 
 doubt how Cissy would accept the revelation ; Cissy was a 
 skeptical boy, with a superabundance of cold common sense. 
 In imagination, when Tom told Cissy all about the buried 
 treasure, and when he came to the long string of mere proba- 
 bilities on which its discovery depended, he shivered as he 
 fancied that he heard Cissy's frank opinion : 
 
 " Shucks ! I don't take any stock in fairy-stories like that." 
 So Tom told no one. Yet the effort to bottle up his great 
 secret must have been obvious at times. Corkscrew Lott be- 
 came aware of it, or at least suspicious that something was 
 on Tom's mind. Corkscrew's curiosity was greater than his 
 pride, and he made up with Tom before they had been back 
 
174 . TOM PAULDING. 
 
 at school for a week. He threw himself in Tom's way when- 
 ever Tom went out for a walk. In some strange manner he 
 discovered that Tom was interested in the vacant lot where 
 the stepping-stones were ; and once, when Tom was drawn — 
 as he often was — to go and look at the bank of earth be- 
 neath which he believed his treasure lay hidden, he found 
 Corkscrew prowling around in the lot, and poking into its 
 corners as if to spy out Tom's secret. 
 
 Corkscrew's curiosity went so far that he even stopped 
 Pauline one day, as she was going home from school, to ask 
 a few questions about Tom's doings, vainly endeavoring to 
 entrap her into some admission as to the cause of her 
 brother's change of manner. 
 
 " I did n't know he had changed at all," Polly answered, 
 simply. 
 
 " Oh, I did n't know, either," explained Corkscrew. " I only 
 thought that, maybe, you know, he might have got on the 
 track of that buried treasure, or stolen money, or something 
 of that sort, that used to belong to his great-great-great- 
 grandfather, once upon a time." 
 
 When this was repeated to Tom, he regretted that he had 
 ever mentioned the loss of the two thousand guineas to any 
 of the Black Band, and most of all that he had said anything 
 in Corkscrew's hearing. He resolved to keep away from the 
 stepping-stones until Uncle Dick returned. 
 
 Then it struck him that it would be fun to lead Corkscrew 
 off on a false scent. So whenever he had part of an after- 
 noon to spare, he would start off to Morningside Park, and as 
 
TOM HAS PATIENCE. 
 
 175 
 
 he took care to let Lott know where he was going, he soon 
 had the satisfaction of seeing Corkscrew skulking along a 
 block or so behind him. Tom would go gravely down the 
 stone steps of Morningside Park, and he would pretend to 
 
 wiiimfiWpi/o 
 i '/it / f // 
 
 "TOM would pretend to sound kocks with a stick. 
 
 sound rocks with a stick and to peer into all the crevices he 
 could find. Sometimes he would push on down to Central 
 Park when he was sure that Corkscrew was following ; and 
 then he would go all over the old fort which is still standing 
 at the upper end of the park. 
 
176 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 And so the winter passed. Early in January there was a 
 gentle thaw ; and Tom hoped that the cold weather was over 
 and that the ground would soon be soft enough for them to 
 begin to dig. But on the day before Washington's Birthday 
 there came a terrific snow-storm ; covering the earth with a 
 white mantle nearly a yard thick. The wind blew fiercely 
 down the Hudson, tossing the snow-wreaths high in the air, 
 and swirling them off down the hillside into the river. Then 
 there followed a hard frost, and the thermometer fell day 
 after day, and the wind blew keener and keener. 
 
 All things come to an end in time, and the winter was over 
 before Tom or his mother had any word from Richard 
 Rapallo. 
 
 " Don't expect to hear from me till you see me," he had said 
 to his sister just before he left the house. " You know I 'm 
 not ' The Complete Letter- Writer.' If I get my work done, 
 I '11 drop in again when you least expect me." 
 
 As the season advanced, and after the final thaw had come, 
 the boys gave up coasting and skating, and began kite-flying. 
 The river was open again, although huge fields of ice still 
 came floating past. There were signs of spring at last. 
 Across the river, up near the Palisades, there began to be a 
 hint of fresh verdure. The long tows were once more to be 
 seen moving slowly up and down the river. 
 
 The trees on the hillside below the Riverside Drive and the 
 few bushes about Mrs. Paulding's house were green again 
 before there was any news of Uncle Dick. The hard part — 
 or at least so Tom thought it — was that they did not know 
 
TOM HAS PATIENCE. 177 
 
 where Mr. Rapallo was. Sometimes Tom saw the Old Gen- 
 tleman who leaned over the Wall walking slowly along the 
 parapet of the drive before his house, as if he were inhaling 
 the freshness of the spring ; and Tom wondered if this be- 
 nevolent-looking old gentleman knew where Uncle Dick was, 
 and whether he would be greatly offended if Tom should go 
 up and ask him. 
 
 One day when spring was well advanced, — it was then 
 about the middle of April, — Tom determined to walk past the 
 vacant lots where the stepping-stones were, that he might at 
 least enjoy the sight of the outward covering of the wealth he 
 was seeking. To his dismay he found that there was a cart 
 standing on the tongue of land projecting out to the step- 
 ping-stones, and that this cart was but one of a dozen or 
 more engaged in emptying builder's rubbish. 
 
 Tom did not know what to do. If these lots were to be 
 filled up, then the difficulty of recovering the buried treasure 
 would be doubled. Of course he saw that he could oppose no 
 resistance to the work ; he had to suffer in silence. 
 
 The next day, when he went to see how far the filling had 
 progressed, he was delighted to find that the rubbish was now 
 being emptied at one of the upper corners of the block, and 
 that the fence had been replaced across the tongue of land 
 which led out to the stepping-stones. 
 
 About that time there came a week of warm weather, and 
 it seemed indisputable that there would be no more frost till 
 the fall. Still there was no word from Uncle Dick. Tom 
 thought that the hour had come when an effort ought to 
 
178 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 be made to get at the buried treasure ; but he himself 
 did not know how to go to work. He had relied on his 
 uncle's help. 
 
 Suddenly the fear came to him that perhaps Uncle Dick 
 would not return to them until too late. What would Tom 
 do then ? 
 
 As the days drew on, Tom became more and more doubt- 
 ful about his uncle's coming. At last he determined to wait 
 no longer, but to see what he could do by himself. 
 
 He recalled what Mr. Rapallo had said about hydraulic 
 mining on the night of the fire, when little Jimmy was run 
 over. Uncle Dick had declared that the stolen guineas could 
 best be got at by hydraulic mining. What that was Tom did 
 not know. He resolved to find out. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon he went down to the Apprentices' 
 Library, and took out a book which the kindly librarian indi- 
 cated as likely to give him the best account of the process. 
 The next Saturday he got another volume ; and a third Sat- 
 urday he spent in looking up articles in the cyclopedias and 
 in the bound magazines where the librarian had told him to 
 search. From these, some of which were fully illustrated, 
 Tom managed to get an understanding of the principles of 
 hydraulic mining; and he thought he saw how his uncle 
 meant to apply them to the getting out of the two thousand 
 guineas buried near the stepping-stones. 
 
 Hydraulic mining is the name given in the West to the 
 method of washing out a hillside containing auriferous sands 
 by the impact of a stream of water, which carries down, into 
 
TOM HAS PATIENCE. 179 
 
 a prepared channel in the valley below, the " pay gravel " in 
 the hill on both sides. After Tom had mastered the sugges- 
 tion, he saw that his uncle meant in like manner to wash 
 away the dirt and sand which hid the remains of Jeffrey 
 Kerr. 
 
 The stepping-stones were near the upper end of the vacant 
 block, and the ground sloped sharply away below, where the 
 brook had run formerly. Tom saw that if a little channel 
 were dug around two projecting rocks, it would then be easy 
 to wash out the loose earth, partly rubbish and partly sand, 
 which formed the projecting point over the stepping-stones. 
 If his guess as to the present position of the stolen money 
 were right, then he would have to wear into the bank a hole 
 fully twenty feet deep. With the aid of the small canal Tom 
 had planned, he thought he saw his way clear to a most suc- 
 cessful operation in hydraulic mining — if he could only get 
 plenty of water. 
 
 Where the water was to come from, was a question for 
 which he had no answer. Uncle Dick had suggested that the 
 buried treasure could be got out by hydraulic mining, but he 
 had not hinted how he was to get the water. 
 
 While Tom was puzzling over this to no purpose, one warm 
 sunny day in May, when the leaves were opening on the trees 
 and the bushes, Uncle Dick came back most unexpectedly. 
 
 He gave no account of his wanderings ; he offered no ex- 
 planation of his long absence ; but from chance allusions in 
 his conversation Tom and Polly made out that he had been 
 traveling part of the time he had been away, and that he had 
 
180 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 been to Boston, and to Chicago, and possibly even as far as 
 San Francisco. 
 
 After supper he asked Tom to come up to his room. 
 
 When Tom had followed his uncle out of the dining-room, 
 Polly asked her mother anxiously, " Did Uncle Dick bring 
 you that Christmas present he owes you "? " 
 
 " He has not given it to me yet," Mrs. Paulding answered ; 
 " but he will some day." 
 
 " I wish he would," said Pauline. " I do so want to know 
 what it is." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ENLISTING ALLIES. 
 
 NCLE DICK and Tom had a long confer- 
 ence that evening in the former's room. 
 Tom told his uncle the exact state of 
 affairs. He described how the dumping 
 of rubbish had begun again just over the 
 stepping-stones, and how it had ceased the 
 next day. He set forth Lott's attempt to spy on him, and his 
 own success in throwing Corkscrew's curiosity off the scent. 
 He gave a full account of his own endeavors to discover the 
 methods of hydraulic mining. 
 
 " I think I have found out how you mean to go to work, 
 Uncle Dick," he said ; " but I confess that I don't see where 
 we are to get the water to wash out all that dirt," 
 
 " That will be easy enough," replied his uncle. " We can 
 have all the water we need — when we need it. That will not 
 be for some time yet." 
 
 Tom went on to tell Mr. Rapallo how very difficult it had 
 been for him to keep his secret to himself. 
 
 " But I have done it ! " he concluded. " I have n't said a 
 single, solitary word to anybody." 
 16 
 
182 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I 'm not sure that the time has n't come to take one or 
 two of your friends into your confidence," Uncle Dick 
 responded. 
 
 " Can I tell Cissy Smith ? " cried Tom ; " and Harry Zach- 
 ary, too ? " 
 
 " From what you have said to me about your friends," his 
 uncle answered, " I should judge that Cissy and Harry will 
 be your safest allies in this affair." 
 
 " Cissy is my best friend," explained the boy, " and Harry 
 is my next-best." 
 
 " Do you think they would be willing to help you ? " asked 
 Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 "Willing?" echoed Tom. "They 'd just be delighted, 
 both of them, to be let into a scheme like this. What do you 
 want them to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet, exactly," his uncle responded ; " but 
 there will be work enough of one kind or another. We shall 
 have to dig a trench to carry off the water, for instance." 
 
 " They go to school with me, you know, Uncle Dick," said 
 Tom ; " and they are free only at the same time that I am, — 
 Saturday afternoons, mostly." 
 
 " I think it will be better for you to have a whole day be- 
 fore you — " began Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " Then I don't see how we can come," Tom interrupted, 
 " unless we play hooky." 
 
 "Don't you have Decoration Da} r as a holiday?" asked his 
 uncle. 
 
 " Decoration Day ? " Tom repeated, with a little disappoint- 
 
ENLISTING ALLIES. 183 
 
 ment in his voice. " Ob, yes, — but that 's more than a fort- 
 night off ! " 
 
 " I doubt if we shall be ready for a fortnight yet," Mr. Ra- 
 pallo returned. " There are various things to do before we 
 can turn on the water and wash out the gold — if there 's 
 any there to wash out." 
 
 " Uncle Dick," cried Tom, piteously, " don't say now that 
 you don't think the gold is there ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes," Mr. Rapallo answered ; " I think it is there — but 
 I don't Ivtiow. We have only a ' working hypothesis,' you re- 
 member." 
 
 " I remember," Tom repeated, dolefully ; " but I Ve been so 
 long thinking about those two thousand guineas lying in the 
 ground there by the stepping-stones that it seems as if I could 
 see them, almost. I feel certain sure they are there ! " 
 
 " Let us hope so," his uncle responded. " And don't be 
 down-hearted about it. If we are to get that gold, we must 
 all believe that it is there until we know that it is n't." 
 
 " I know it is" asseverated Tom. 
 
 " To-morrow," Mr. Rapallo continued, u you must take 
 your friends into your confidence. I have business down- 
 town and I '11 inquire whether the lawyers have found out 
 yet to whom that vacant block belongs. If they have, I '11 
 try to get permission for us to dig out your two thousand 
 guineas." 
 
 So the next afternoon, when school was out, Tom Paulding 
 took Cissy Smith and Harry Zachary off with him. 
 
184 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Corkscrew Lott was going to join them, but Tom said to 
 him frankly ; 
 
 " I 've got something particular to say to Cissy and Harry, 
 and so I don't want anybody else to come with us, Lott." 
 
 " Can't you tell me, too ? " Lott pleaded. 
 
 " I can, of course," Tom answered, " if I want to. But I 
 don't." 
 
 " Oh, very well ! " said Corkscrew, gruffly ; " I don't want 
 to know any of your old secrets." 
 
 Notwithstanding this disclaimer of all interest in their af- 
 fairs, Corkscrew lingered at school until after the three other 
 boys had gone on ahead, and then he followed them from 
 afar, in the hope that something unforeseen might reveal the 
 matter of their discourse. 
 
 Harry Zachary gave a swift glance back when they came 
 to their first turning. He caught sight of Lott, who stopped 
 short when he saw that he was detected. 
 
 " There 's Corkscrew on our trail," said Harry. " Let 's 
 throw him off the track." 
 
 " How are you going to do it ? " said Cissy. 
 
 " I 've got a way," Harry explained. " Follow me." 
 
 And with that he turned into the side street, and walked 
 rapidly toward the elevated railroad station. 
 
 " Corkscrew will be sure to follow us now," Harry de- 
 clared ; " and when we come to the station, we '11 go upstairs. 
 He can't come up after us because he knows we should see 
 him then." 
 
 " But we don't want to pay car-fare to nowhere just to get 
 
ENLISTING ALLIES. 185 
 
 rid of Corkscrew Lott," remarked Cissy Smith, rolling along 
 a little ahead of the others. 
 
 "We need n't pay a cent," Harry Zachary responded. 
 " We can just wait on the outside platform, out of sight from 
 where he is, while we can see him through the window. Then 
 when he goes, we '11 slip down again and run to the Three 
 Trees." 
 
 " All right," said Cissy ; and Tom also agreed to the plan. 
 
 The boys went np the steps of the elevated railroad station ; 
 and through the window of the covered platform they saw 
 Corkscrew come up and stare hard at the station and hesitate 
 a little, twisting about as usual. Then he set out to cross 
 the avenue to look at the inner platforms; but, before he 
 could do that, a train from up-town and another from down- 
 town arrived and departed with much puffing and hissing, 
 and shrill squeaking of the brakes. So Corkscrew gave up 
 his effort to "shadow" the three friends, and went on his 
 way home. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, Tom, Cissy, and Harrjr came out 
 of hiding and started off for the Riverside Drive, where there 
 was a favorite spot of theirs, down by the railroad and the 
 river. Here three trees grew in a group, with knotted and 
 distorted branches, so that half a dozen boys could find seats 
 amid their limbs. 
 
 When the three friends had arrived at this pleasant place, 
 doubly delightful in the fresh fairness of spring, Tom, who 
 had refused to open the subject before, said solemnly, " Fel- 
 lows, can you keep a secret ? " 
 
186 
 
 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Shucks ! " cried Cissy Smith, forcibly. " Did you bring 
 us all the way down here just to tell us a secret ? I thought 
 you said you wanted us to help you do something." 
 
 fl f\f, 
 
 "TOM SAID SOLEMNLY, 'FELLOWS, CAN YOU KEEr A SECRET?'" 
 
 "Is it about your lost treasure?" asked Harry Z a chary, 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " How did you know ? " Tom inquired, in surprise. 
 
 " I don't know ; I guessed," Harry explained. " You told 
 us once that you were going to hunt for it, and you 've been 
 so different since then that I thought perhaps you had got a 
 notion where it was" 
 
 " I have found it ! " said Tom, with intense enjoyment of 
 their surprise. 
 
ENLISTING ALLIES. 187 
 
 " How much is it ? " asked the practical Cissy. 
 
 " Where is it ? " Harry cried. 
 
 "It 's two thousand guineas," Tom replied ; " and it is now 
 buried far from here. And I want you two to help me get at 
 it." 
 
 " Buried ? " Cissy repeated. " Then you have not seen it ? " 
 
 " No," Tom replied, " but I know it 's there. It must be 
 there ! " 
 
 "We '11 help you, of course," said Harry Zachary, with a 
 return of his shy and gentle manner. " But we shall have to 
 kill the guards, sha'n't we ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " Tom asked, in amazement. 
 
 " I suppose there must be somebody guarding this buried 
 treasure, and they must be removed, of course. ' Dead men 
 tell no tales,' you know," Harry explained. "And I have been 
 reading about a new way of getting rid of an enemy ; the 
 Italians used to do it in the Middle Ages. You have a glass 
 stiletto, — that 's a sort of dagger made of glass, — and you 
 stab the man in the back, and break off the blade, and throw 
 the handle into the Grand Canal ; then the man 's dead and 
 nobody knows you had anything to do with it." 
 
 " I 'm glad of that," said Cissy, dryly. 
 
 " But is it necessary to kill the guards ? " Harry went on. 
 " Would n't it do to give them something to put them to sleep 
 while we get at the treasure ? I reckon Cissy could coax his 
 father to give us a prescription for something that would put 
 a whole platoon of police to sleep for the day." 
 
 " Shucks ! " said Cissy, vigorously. " I 'm not going to stab 
 
188 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 anybody in the back with a glass dagger, nor are you either, 
 Harry Zachaiy. And I 'm not going to try to put a platoon 
 of police to sleep. It would be what my father calls a ' dan- 
 gerous experiment.' Suppose some of them did n't wake up, 
 and the rest of them did, and they clubbed the life out of us, 
 where would the fun be then ? " 
 
 "You need n't quarrel over the glass dagger and the 
 policemen,'' Tom declared, "because there is n't any guard 
 to kill, this time." 
 
 "A buried treasure without any guard?" Harry repeated. 
 " I never heard of such a thing." 
 
 " Well," said Tom, " you can hear of it now if you waDt to 
 listen. But first you have both got to promise that never by 
 thought, word, or deed will you ever reveal any of the secrets 
 I am now about to confide to you." 
 
 " That 's all right," Cissy responded, " I won't say a word, 
 — never." Perhaps this delayed double negative served to 
 make the declaration doubly binding. 
 
 " I solemnly vow that I will never reveal the secret Thomas 
 Paulding is now about to confide to me," said Harry Zach- 
 ary, stiffening his usual timid voice. " In China they cut off 
 a chicken's head whenever a man takes an oath before a 
 priest, and that makes it binding, I reckon. I wish we had 
 a chicken here." 
 
 " I guess the priests in China are as fond of chicken as 
 anybody else," Cissy commented. "Now, Tom, tell us the 
 whole story." 
 
 So Tom began at the beginning, and gave them all the 
 
ENLISTING ALLIES. 189 
 
 particulars of his search for the stolen guineas, of the sug- 
 gestion Santa Claus brought, of the stepping-stones, and of 
 the present situation of the buried treasure. 
 
 " That 's all very well/' said Cissy. " Perhaps the money 
 is there, and perhaps it is n't. How are you to get at it? 
 That 's the question." 
 
 Then Tom told them about hydraulic mining, explaining 
 briefly to them what he himself had extracted laboriously 
 from many books. He informed them that his uncle was 
 going to arrange for a supply of water, and that Decoration 
 Day had been chosen as the date when the final attack was 
 to be made. 
 
 When Tom had finished, Cissy said, " Well, that 's a very 
 interesting story, and, as I told you before, maybe the money 
 is there. Leastways, it 's worth trying for. I don't see where 
 your uncle is going to get the stream of water — but your 
 uncle is n't any fool, so I guess he knows. And I don't see 
 either where we come in — Harry and I. What are we to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know just what you will have to do," Tom re- 
 plied. " But Uncle Dick said to ask you and Harry if you 
 would help us." 
 
 " Oh, yes," Cissy responded, heartily. " I '11 help all I know 
 how." 
 
 After a little further talk the boys started homeward, Cissy 
 lurching along with his usual rolling gait. 
 
 " There 's the Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall," 
 said Tom, as they saw a tall, white-haired man get out of a 
 carriage before a handsome house. 
 
190 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " That 's Mr. Joshua Hoffmann," explained Harry Zach- 
 ary. " He 's so rich he has more money than he knows what 
 to do with." 
 
 "And my father says there is n't a better man in the United 
 States, in spite of all his money," said Cissy. 
 
 " My uncle knows him, too," Tom remarked, unwilling to 
 be left out of the conversation. 
 
 " Is n't that your uncle now ? " asked Harry. 
 
 Tom looked across the roadway and saw his uncle stop be- 
 fore the house ; and again the old gentleman leaned over the 
 wall to talk to him. 
 
 " Yes," said Tom, " that 's Uncle Dick." 
 
 As the boys went by Mr. Eapallo waved his hand to them ; 
 and when Tom glanced back a minute later it seemed as if 
 his uncle were talking about him to the Old Gentleman who 
 leaned over the Wall, for the two men were both looking 
 after the three boys. 
 
 The next day, at school, Corkscrew came up to Tom as 
 Cissy and Harry had just joined him. 
 
 " Did you three have a nice ride on the railroad, yesterday 
 afternoon ? " asked Lott, insidiously. 
 
 " I was n't on the cars at all yesterday," said Harry Zach- 
 ary promptly, with a grave face. 
 
 " Neither was I," continued Tom Paulding. 
 
 " Nor I," added Cissy Smith. 
 
 " I mean the elevated railroad," Corkscrew explained. 
 
 " I did n't ride on the elevated railroad yesterday," Harry 
 declared. 
 
ENLISTING ALLIES. 191 
 
 " I did n't, either/' repeated both Tom and Cissy 
 
 "Why, I saw yon — " began Lott. 
 
 " Oh," said Tom Paulding, "if you know what we Ve been 
 doing better than we do ourselves, why do you ask ques- 
 tions ? " 
 
 Corkscrew was a little confused at this. " I happened to 
 be passing the station yesterday," he said, pulling up the tops 
 of his high boots, " and I saw you three go up — " 
 
 " If you saw us, then we 've nothing to say," Tom inter- 
 rupted. " But I can tell you that we were none of us in an 
 elevated train yesterday." 
 
 "Then why on earth did you — " 
 
 But what Corkscrew was going to ask they never knew, 
 as just then the bell rang for school. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SLAKING READY. 
 
 R. RAPALLO reported to Tom that the 
 title of the vacant block was still in dis- 
 pute. 
 
 " There 's no knowing," he said, " when 
 that lawsuit will be settled. It has been 
 going on for seventeen years now, and 
 everybody interested in it has come to hate everybody else ; 
 and so they persist in fighting like the 'Kilkenny cats.'" 
 
 " Then we can't get permission to look for the two thou- 
 sand guineas?" Tom asked, anxiously. 
 
 " We shall have to do without permission," Uncle Dick re- 
 plied. "And I suppose that we shall be trespassers when 
 we go into that vacant block to dig up your great-grand- 
 father's gold." 
 
 " It is n't our fault that our money is there," said Tom. 
 "No," his uncle responded. "It is n't our fault, and it 
 is n't the fault of the first owner of the mone}^ ; whereas if 
 the first owner of the land had exercised proper care over it, 
 he would have refused to harbor on it the body of a thief 
 laden with stolen goods." 
 
MAKING READY. 193 
 
 " When we find the gold/' Tom asked, " do you think the 
 bags in which it was tied will still be there, or will they have 
 rotted away ? " 
 
 " I should n't wonder if the bags might be gone," Mr. Ra- 
 pallo replied. 
 
 " That 's what I thought," Tom continued ; " and so I have 
 bought some bagging. It 's coarse, but it 's very strong — 
 and I don't think we need care about the looks — " 
 
 " If the gold looks all right," Uncle Dick interrupted, " I 
 don't think it will matter what we put it in." 
 
 "I 've asked Polly to make me four bags, just the same 
 number the money was in when my great-grandfather had 
 it," said Tom. " Of course, I didn't tell her what I wanted 
 them for; I don't believe in trusting women with secrets. 
 Do you, Uncle Dick?" 
 
 Mr. Rapallo smiled. " As I Ve told you before," he 
 answered, " the best way to keep your secret safe is to keep 
 it all to yourself. That 's one reason I have n't told you yet 
 how I propose to get the water for our hydraulic mining. 
 But come out with me on Saturday afternoon, and I will 
 show you how I mean to manage it." 
 
 Since his return from his journey, Mr. Rapallo had settled 
 down into his old way of life at his sister's house. He was 
 still irregular and erratic in his comings and goings. When 
 he went out in the morning, the household never knew when 
 he would return. Some days he seemed to have little or 
 'nothing to do, and on other days he was apparently full 
 of engagements. Knowing that Tom was free from his 
 17 
 
194 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 duties only on Saturday afternoon, lie arranged to have that 
 time free. 
 
 About three o'clock on the Saturday before Decoration 
 Day, he and Tom walked over to the vacant block where the 
 stepping-stones were, for a final examination before they 
 should attempt to find the buried treasure. 
 
 The vacant block was of dimensions common enough in 
 New York. It was about two hundred feet wide from street 
 to street, and nearly a thousand feet long from avenue to 
 avenue. The stepping-stones were on the northern side of 
 the block about one third way from the eastern end; and 
 over them projected the tongue of made land which had been 
 filled in mainly with builder's rubbish. The original level of 
 the ground sloped sharply from the east to the west, as the 
 brook had coursed briskly along, hastening away to the 
 Hudson River. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo and Tom were pleased to find what they had 
 never noted before, perhaps because the entrance to it was 
 overrun with brambles, that a culvert had been left to carry 
 off the waters of the brook which must, then, have been flow- 
 ing when the avenue on the western end of the block had 
 been earned across, high in the air above the original level 
 of the land thereabout. 
 
 The brook, still easily to be traced by the stunted wil- 
 lows that once lined its bank, had dried up years before 
 Tom and his uncle tramped along its bed; but the culvert 
 survived. 
 
 "It is a piece of good fortune," said Mr. Rapallo, "that 
 
MAKING READY. 195 
 
 the old outlet of the stream is still here. It will serve to 
 take away the water; and now we need not fear that we 
 shall not have fall enough to carry off the waste we shall 
 wash out of the bank." 
 
 "But where are you going to get your water?" asked 
 Tom. 
 
 " Come and see/' his uncle answered, leading the way from 
 the sunken lots to the street-level. 
 
 The stepping-stones were perhaps three hundred feet from 
 the northeast corner of the block, and the tongue of land 
 above them projected perhaps fifty or sixty feet into the hol- 
 low parallelogram. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo took Tom along the sidewalk of the street 
 which bounded the block on the south, until they came op- 
 posite the stepping-stones. 
 
 "Here," he said, laying his hand on a sort of iron post 
 which rose from the sidewalk at the edge of the gutter, 
 " what is this ? " 
 
 " That 's a hydrant," replied Tom ; " that 's to supply water 
 to the engines when there 's a fire." 
 
 " Then why should n't it supply us with the water we 
 need ? " his uncle asked. 
 
 "Well," Tom hesitated a moment. "I suppose it would, 
 perhaps. I don't see why it should n't. But how are you 
 going to get a key to turn it on ? " 
 
 "I 've got it already," Mr. Rapallo answered, taking the 
 key from his pocket. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Tom. " But how are you going to get 
 
196 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Lose to fit this hydrant, and to reach 'way across the block 
 here ? " 
 
 "I've ordered that," Uncle Dick replied. " I saw that yon 
 had done all the thinking over this problem and had worked 
 it out for yourself, so I determined to help you out all I 
 could. I was n't going to see you fail for want of a little aid 
 when you needed it most." 
 
 "Uncle Dick, I — " began Tom. 
 
 " I know all about it," said his uncle, checking Tom's 
 thanks with a kindly pat on the shoulder. " You need n't 
 say another word." 
 
 "But — " the boy began again. 
 
 " But me no buts," laughed Mr. Rapallo, " or I will not tell 
 you anything about the hose I have ordered. There will be 
 one section about forty feet long, like fire-engine hose and 
 made to fit this hydrant. Then I shall have perhaps a hun- 
 dred and twenty-five feet of ordinary garden hose, with a 
 valve and joint so that we can fasten it to the end of the 
 larger hose." 
 
 " Won't the difference in size hinder us ? " Tom inquired. 
 
 " I think not," his uncle answered. " The reduction in the 
 section of the tube through which the water is delivered 
 ought to increase the force of the current as it leaves the 
 nozle — and that is just what we want. The one thing that 
 I am afraid of is that the common or garden hose won't be 
 able to stand the strain put on it. But we shall have to take 
 our chances as to that." 
 
 "Is the hose ready?" asked Tom. 
 
MAKING READY. 197 
 
 " It is to be delivered at the house to-night," Mr. Rapallo 
 replied. 
 
 " But then Polly will want to know what it is," Tom sug- 
 gested promptly. 
 
 " And I shall not tell her," Uncle Dick declared ; "at least, 
 I shall tell her only that it is something for me." 
 
 " Well," Tom continued, " I suppose that she won't dare to 
 ask you too many questions. But she '11 be wild to know 
 what it is." 
 
 On their way home Tom asked 'his uncle what time he 
 thought would be the best to begin work on Decoration Day 
 morning. 
 
 " The sooner the better," Mr. Rapallo replied. 
 
 " Before breakfast ? " Tom inquired. 
 
 " Before daybreak ! " his uncle answered ; " that is to say, 
 it ought to be light enough for us to work soon after four 
 o'clock, as the sun rises at half -past four." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Tom, feeling that here was an added new ex- 
 perience for him, as he had never in his life been out of the 
 house before six o'clock in the morning. 
 
 "We must get our work done before anybody is stirring 
 about," Mr. Rapallo explained. " That 's our only chance of 
 doing what we have to do without fear of interruption. We 
 don't want to have a crowd about us when we are playing 
 the hose on that pile of earth there ; and I think that hy- 
 draulic mining in the streets of New York is novelty enough 
 to draw a crowd pretty quickly, even in this part of the city. 
 Fortunately, there is hardly a house near enough to the place 
 
198 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 where we are going to mine to make it likely that we shall 
 disturb any one so early in the morning. Besides 7 we sha'n't 
 make much noise." 
 
 " It's a good thing that there is n't a station of the elevated 
 railroad on either of the streets that go past the place/' Tom 
 remarked. " There are people coming and going to the sta- 
 tions at all hours of the night, so Cissj^ tells me. His house 
 is just by a station." 
 
 " I do not think any one is likely to see us at work unless 
 he suspects what we are up to," said Uncle Dick. " By the 
 way, is there any danger from that inquisitive boy you used 
 to call Corkscrew?" 
 
 "No," Tom answered. "I don't believe Corkscrew Lott 
 will be up at half -past four — or at half -past six either." 
 
 " I hope we shall have our job done before six," said Mr. 
 Rapallo. 
 
 " Of course," Tom continued, " Corkscrew would get up 
 over-night if he thought he could pry out anything. But I 
 don't believe that he will bother us this time, because he is 
 in bed with a sprained ankle." 
 
 "Then we need not worry about him," Uncle Dick re- 
 marked. 
 
 " I heard that he was better this morning," Tom added, 
 doubtfully. " Perhaps he '11 be out by Decoration Day." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo replied: "I do not believe that there is 
 much chance of this Corkscrew's bothering us; and if he 
 does, why — there will be time enough to attend to him 
 then." 
 
MAKING READY. 199 
 
 And when the time came, Uncle Dick was able to attend 
 to him. 
 
 On Monday, Tom told Cissy Smith and Harry Zachary 
 that all was ready to begin work the next morning. Decora- 
 tion Day came on a Tuesday that year. 
 
 " Shucks ! " cried Cissy, " that lets me out. Pop will want 
 to know where I 'm going, if I try to get out of the house 
 ' in the morning by the bright light/ as you want." 
 
 "And my mother would never let me go," said Harry 
 Zachary; "at least not without asking awkward ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " I told Uncle Dick that I did n't believe you two fellows 
 could get off ; and he said he 'd settle that." 
 
 " Pop would settle me," Cissy declared, " if he caught me 
 at it," 
 
 " Uncle Dick is going to ask Dr. Smith if you can't spend 
 to-night with me so that we can all go off on an expedition 
 with him in the morning." 
 
 "Then I guess it '11 be all right," Cissy admitted. "My 
 father sets store by your uncle. He knew him out in Den- 
 ver, you know, and he thinks a lot of him." 
 
 " And how about me ? " asked Harry Zachary. 
 
 " Uncle Dick 's fixed that too," Tom explained. " He 's 
 going to get my mother to write to your mother inviting 
 you over to our house to spend the night with me." 
 
 " I reckon that '11 do it," responded Harry. 
 
 " Uncle Dick 's going to take Cissy into his room ; and 
 you are to sleep with me, Harry," said Tom. 
 
200 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " I don't believe we shall sleep much," Cissy declared ; " we 
 shall be too excited to sleep." 
 
 " Napoleon used to slumber soundly before his biggest and 
 bloodiest battles/' Harry Zachary remarked, reflectively; 
 " and I reckon it 's a good habit to get into." 
 
 As it happened, the boys went to bed far earlier than they 
 had expected. Mr. Rapallo succeeded in arranging with Dr. 
 Smith that Cissy should be left in his charge for one night, 
 and Mrs. Zachary intrusted her son to Mrs. Paulding — to 
 whom Uncle Dick gave no reason for the invitation other 
 than that he was going to take the three boys out, and that 
 they would see the sun rise. 
 
 When Polly heard this, she wanted to go, too. But Mr. 
 Rapallo tactfully suggested a variety of reasons why she 
 should not join the party ; and some one of them must have 
 struck the little girl as adequate, for she did not renew her 
 request. 
 
 After supper — during which meal it had been very diffi- 
 cult for the three boys to refrain from discussing the subject 
 they were all thinking about — Mr. Rapallo gave them each 
 a coil of hose, and they set out for the vacant block. There 
 was more hose than could conveniently be carried at once by 
 the four of them. So they took about half of it the evening 
 before and left it in the open air, half-hidden under the 
 bushes. There was no moon, and Mr. Rapallo thought that 
 it would be perfectly safe to trust the hose at night in a place 
 where nobody was likely to go. 
 
 When they had returned to the house it was barely eight 
 
MAKING REvVDY. 203 
 
 o'clock, but Uncle Dick promptly sent the boys off to bed ; 
 — or rather, he led the way himself, answering their protests 
 by the assertion that they would need all the sleep they could 
 get. He declared that he was not going to have his work- 
 men too sleepy to see what they were about in the morning. 
 
 He set them the example himself, and all four were sound 
 asleep before nine o'clock. 
 
 They had had nearly seven hours' slumber when Mr. 
 Rapallo roused them. In the gray dawn — which struck 
 them as being colder and darker than they had expected — 
 the boys dressed themselves hastily. They gladly ate the 
 bread and butter that Uncle Dick had ready for them, and 
 each drank a glass or two of milk. 
 
 Then they crept softly downstairs and out into the garden. 
 Mr. Rapallo divided the rest of the hose among them, and 
 added to his own load three light spades and a pickax. 
 
 Thus the procession set out. Tom's heart had already be- 
 gun to beat with alternating hopes and doubts ; he was in 
 haste to get at the work and to find the buried treasure as 
 soon as might be. Cissy Smith and Harry Zachary had a 
 boyish delight in the pleasantly romantic flavor of the ad- 
 venture. To them it was as if they were knights-errant 
 going to a rescue, or scouts setting out on a scalp-hunt, or, per- 
 haps, pirates making ready for a sea-fight against a Spanish 
 galleon laden with doubloons. Harry Zachary's imagination 
 was the more active ; but in his own way Cissy Smith took 
 quite as much enjoyment in the situation. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 
 
 HEY walked on as the gray dawn was 
 breaking with a faint, rosy tinge in the 
 eastern sky. Two abreast, they bore with 
 them the implements of their new craft. 
 Tied in a bundle and slung over his shoul- 
 der, Tom had also the bags in which to 
 put the buried treasure. 
 
 When they had come to the vacant block they set down 
 part of the hose on the sidewalk. The rest they carried with 
 them down the steep sides of the parallelogram. 
 
 The first thing Tom and Mr. Rapallo did was to make sure 
 that the things which had been brought over-night were still 
 there. Apparently no one had touched these. 
 
 " Now, boys," cried Uncle Dick, " I '11 go to work and get 
 the hose ready, while you dig me a trench to carry off the 
 water and the waste it will wash down." 
 
 The stepping-stones crossed what had been the middle of 
 a wide pool into which the brook had broadened. A little 
 below, the ground sloped away sharply. As Tom believed 
 
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 205 
 
 that the body of Jeffrey Kerr lay at the bottom of the pool, 
 covered with sand, it was needful to remove not only the 
 later rubbish, shot down from the street when the projecting 
 tongue of land was made out into the block, but also to get 
 a fall of water sufficient to carry off the sand at the bottom 
 of the pool. 
 
 Fortunately, this was not a difficult task. By digging a 
 trench a foot wide around a rock which had retarded the 
 stream, and by carrying it along less than twenty feet, the 
 natural declivity of the ground would then bear the water 
 off to the open culvert at the end of the block. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo consulted with the boys as to the best course 
 of this little trench. Then he roughly traced its path with 
 the point of the pick, loosening the earth here and there 
 where it seemed more than ordinarily compact. They set to 
 work with the spades he had brought, while he went over to 
 make ready the hose. The sections of common kind were 
 first unrolled and stretched out across the block from the 
 hydrant toward the point of attack. He screwed them firmly 
 together. Then he went up to the hydrant and fastened to 
 it the section of heavier hose, to the lower end of which was 
 affixed a screw- joint to receive the end of the garden hose. 
 By the aid of this, Mr. Rapallo joined the two kinds; and 
 he had then a flexible tube more than a hundred and fifty 
 feet long, with the hydrant at one end and a broad nozle at 
 the other. 
 
 When he had thus prepared the hose for its work, he 
 went over to the trench to see how the boys were getting on. 
 18 
 
206 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 By this time the sun had risen and was visible, a dull red 
 ball glowing" in the east and slowly climbing the sky. 
 
 "Are you all ready?" cried Tom, as his uncle came up. 
 
 "I can turn on the water now if you have the trench 
 done," was the answer. 
 
 The boys had followed the hue Mr. Rapallo had traced, 
 and, working with the eagerness and enthusiastic strength 
 of youth, they had dug a ditch both broader and deeper than 
 he had declared to be necessary. 
 
 " That 's excellent," said Uncle Dick, when he saw what 
 they had done. " It could n't be better." 
 
 " Shall we knock off now ? " asked Cissy. 
 
 "You need n't do anything more to the trench," Mr. 
 Rapallo answered. "That is just right. Gather up the 
 spades and take them back out of the way of the water." 
 
 Then as they drew back he explained what he proposed 
 next. What they needed to do was to lay bare the original 
 surface of the pool by the stepping-stones. To do that they 
 would have to wash out a hole in the bank at least twenty 
 feet broad, perhaps fifteen high, and certainly ten feet deep. 
 
 " Can you do that with the hose ? " asked Cissy, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " I think so," Mr. Rapallo answered. " Luckily, we shall 
 have a strong head of water. Owing to the work on the 
 new aqueduct, part of the supply for this portion of the city 
 has been shut off below us for three or four days, so that 
 hereabout there is a very full pressure. What I 'm most in 
 doubt about is whether this small hose will stand it. We 
 
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 207 
 
 might as well find out as soon as possible. Tom, you can 
 take this key and turn on the hydrant up there." 
 
 Tom hastily grasped the key, and sprang away across the 
 open space. In a minute he had climbed to the street and 
 turned on the water. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo seized the hose by the long brass nozle and 
 stood pointing it firmly toward the bank of earth before him. 
 As Tom opened the valve of the hydrant, the long line of 
 hose stiffened and filled out. There was a whishing of air 
 out of the nozle as the water rushed into the flexible tube. 
 At the juncture of the larger hose with the smaller the 
 joint was not tight, and a fine spray filled the air. 
 
 " Let 7 s see if you can tighten that," cried Mr. Rapallo to 
 Cissy, who ran back at once and succeeded in stopping the 
 leak. 
 
 Then the smaller hose distended to the utmost. But Mr. 
 Rapallo's fears were nearly groundless, for it was stanch and 
 stood the strain. 
 
 It seemed but a second after Tom had turned the handle 
 of the hydrant that a stout stream of water gushed solidly 
 from the end of the pipe and curved in a powerful arch 
 toward the bank before them. 
 
 Uncle Dick turned the stream upon the lower end of the 
 trench the boys had dug, and in a minute he had washed it 
 out to double its former capacity. 
 
 On his way back Tom joined Cissy and assisted him to 
 tighten the valve which united the two kinds of hose. Harry 
 Zachary had been helping Mr. Rapallo to get the end of the 
 
208 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 tube into working order, adjusting the curves and straight- 
 ening it, so that the utmost force of the water might be 
 available. 
 
 When he had washed out the trench, Mr. Rapallo raised 
 the nozle carefully and directed the stream full at the center 
 of the bank before him, striking it at what had been the level 
 of the ground before the filling-in. The water plunged into 
 the soft earth, and in less than five minutes it had washed 
 out a large cave five or six feet deep. 
 
 Then Uncle Dick brought the force of the current again 
 into the ditch, which had partly filled up. The stream, 
 adroitly applied first at the lower end, swept out the trench 
 as if a giant were at work on it with a huge broom. 
 
 Turning the water again on the bank of earth, Mr. Rapallo 
 loosened the overhanging roof of the cavern he had first 
 made, and it fell in soft heaps as the stream bored its way 
 into the mound of earth. The hose removed the dirt faster 
 than a dozen men could have shoveled it away ; and a little 
 attention now and then served to spread the stuff washed 
 out over the lower part of the vacant block, leaving open a 
 channel by which the water could make its escape to the 
 culvert. 
 
 Minute by minute the cavity in the tongue of made land 
 grew larger and larger, and the rubbish dumped there — 
 ashes, builder's dirt, even old bits of brick and odds and ends 
 of broken plaster — seemed to melt away under the impact 
 of the curving current of water. 
 
 The sun slowly rose, and its early rays fell on this bend- 
 
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 209 
 
 ing fountain, which sparkled as if it were a string of dia- 
 monds. As yet not a single passer-by had disturbed them at 
 their work. But now and again the rattle of an early milk- 
 cart could be heard in the morning quiet. 
 
 Once, when the bulk of the earth to be removed was nearly 
 gone, Harry Zachary tapped Mr. Rapallo on the shoulder 
 and pointed to the avenue on the west of them. Uncle Dick 
 turned off the flow at once, and in the silence they heard the 
 wagon of a market-gardener come rumbling toward them. 
 Mr. Rapallo raised his hand and they all sheltered themselves 
 hastily under the shadow of the bank until the intruder had 
 passed on out of hearing. 
 
 As Uncle Dick turned on the water again he said, " We 've 
 been very lucky, so far. But as soon as we get this first job 
 done I think we had better put out sentinels." 
 
 In a few minutes more the heap of dirt was washed away 
 and the original level of the ground was laid bare up to the 
 edge of the tall rock by the side of which Tom hoped to find 
 his great-grandfather's guineas. 
 
 Uncle Dick thoroughly cleaned out the trench again and 
 then turned off the stream. 
 
 " Now, Tom," he said, " here we 've got down to the sur- 
 face of the soil as it used to be. We are now standing on 
 what was the bottom of the brook before it dried up. 
 Where had we best begin on this ? " 
 
 "Here," Tom answered, pointing to the base of the tall 
 rock. " At least it seems to me that if a man tried to cross 
 on those stepping-stones there, and got washed off by the 
 
210 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 brook, his body would be earned into the pool there, and then 
 rolled over and over and nearer and nearer to that rock." 
 
 "Well," Uncle Dick returned, "I think that's the place, 
 myself. But we must clear away here so that the water can 
 get in its fine work." 
 
 He took the pickax and loosened a few stones and pried 
 them out. The boys opened another trench leading down to 
 the first ditch. 
 
 When this was done, Mr. Rapallo said, " We shall know in 
 ten minutes now whether Tom has located his mine properly, 
 or whether the claim is to be abandoned." 
 
 Tom was excited, and his voice shook as he answered, " Go 
 ahead, Uncle Dick ; the sooner I know the better." 
 
 " I think we ought to have outposts," Mr. Rapallo declared. 
 " Cissy, will you keep your eyes open for any one approach- 
 ing from the south or east ? Harry, you take charge of the 
 north side and the west. Tom, stay with me." 
 
 This last admonition was hardly necessary, as it would 
 have been difficult to make Tom move a step just then. 
 
 Cissy went back to the left of the group and looked about 
 him. Harry withdrew a little to the right. But the fascina- 
 tion of expectancy was upon them both, and they kept a 
 most negligent watch. They had eyes only for the stream 
 of water, as Mr. Rapallo turned it on again and as it tore its 
 way into the compact sand which had formed the bottom of 
 the brook. Only now and then did they recall their ap- 
 pointed duties, and then they would give but a hasty glance 
 around. 
 
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 
 
 211 
 
 The water washed out the edge of the bottom of the pool, 
 and Mr. Rapallo was able to expose a depth of fully five feet, 
 into which the stream was steadily eating its way. As the 
 open space approached nearer and nearer to the tall rock at 
 the base of which Tom hoped to find the buried treasure, 
 his heart began to beat, and he pressed forward in his eager- 
 ness to be the first to see whatever might have been hidden 
 in the sand of the brook. 
 
 When about two yards only remained between the tall 
 rock and the widening breach made by the water, he thought 
 he caught sight of something white. With a cry he sprang 
 forward, and the stream of water washed away the sand 
 which had concealed the bones of a human foot and leg. 
 
 At that moment there came a whistle from Cissy Smith : 
 
 ^E 
 
 £ 
 
 In a second, as it seemed, this was followed by a second 
 warning from Harry Zachary : 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Involuntarily, Tom whistled the answer : 
 
 Then he looked at Cissy, who was pointing to the figure of 
 a man standing on the sidewalk behind them, within a yard 
 of the hydrant. 
 
212 
 
 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo looked also, and then waved his hand. The 
 man waved back. 
 
 " That 's all right;' said Uncle Dick. 
 
 Something in the man's gesture seemed familiar to Tom 
 
 as he saw it indistinctly in the grow- 
 ing light of the morning. 
 
 "Is n't that the Old Gentleman «. 1N A SECOND m WAS S0AKB 
 who leaned over the Wall ? " he asked. through." 
 
 "Yes/' his uncle replied. "And isn't that your friend 
 Corkscrew?" he continued, indicating a tall figure in high 
 boots who was then advancing out on the tongue of made 
 land before them. 
 
 This was the stranger Harry Zacharv had seen when it 
 
JEFFREY KERR'S BOOTY. 213 
 
 was too late. As this visitor came to the edge of the hollow 
 wliich they had washed out, they knew that it was Corkscrew 
 Lott. 
 
 " What 's he doing here ? " Tom wondered. " I thought he 
 was in bed with a sprained foot." 
 
 " I '11 send him to bed again with a shock of surprise/' said 
 Mr. Rapallo, raising the nozle again and turning on the 
 stream. 
 
 As it gushed forth Uncle Dick aimed it full and square at 
 Corkscrew, and it took the intruder first in the chest and then 
 in the face. In a second he was soaked through. He turned 
 and twisted and staggered back, but Mr. Rapallo never re- 
 lented. The full stream was kept steadily on the inquisitive 
 visitor until the tall boy crawled out on the sidewalk and 
 started home on a full run. 
 
 As soon as he was out of sight, Tom cried to Mr. Rapallo, 
 " Turn it on the place where it was before, Uncle Dick ; I 
 think I saw a bone there ! " 
 
 " I thought so, too," Mr. Rapallo replied, as the full head 
 of water began searching again in the sand. 
 
 Tom ran forward as far as he could, and in a moment he 
 gave a cry of joy; for the water was uncovering a human 
 skeleton, and among the bones he had caught a glitter of 
 gold. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE "WORKING HYPOTHESIS." 
 
 R. RAPALLO instantly turned the valve 
 in the nozle of the tube and shut off the 
 water. He threw down the hose and 
 sprang forward to see what had been dis- 
 covered. 
 
 There in the sand were the lower bones 
 of a human skeleton, bleached white by time. The feet were 
 already separated by the action of the water, and the shin- 
 bones were detached at the knees. 
 
 The three boys stood by the side of Mr. Rapallo, looking 
 with intense interest at these relics of what had once been a 
 fellow human-being. Amid the sand, and by the side of a 
 thigh-bone half uncovered by the stream of water, lay a dozen 
 or more yellow coins. 
 
 Tom Paulding came closer, stooped and picked these out. 
 They were dull, most of them, from their long burial in the 
 earth, and some of them were covered with mold or incrusted 
 with rusty earth. But one had been protected, perhaps by 
 its position in the center of the bag ; and this one glittered 
 as the early rays of the sun fell on it. 
 
THE "WORKING HYPOTHESIS." 217 
 
 The boy held it out to Mr. Rapallo. "This is a guinea, 
 Uncle Dick. I have seen pictures of them," he cried. " And 
 see, the portrait of Georgius III." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo took the coin and looked at it carefully, turn- 
 ing it over. " It seems a little queer somehow," he remarked, 
 " but it is a George the Third guinea. There can be no doubt 
 of that." 
 
 " Then my guess was right," Tom said ; " and we have found 
 Jeffrey Kerr." 
 
 " The ' working hypothesis ' worked excellently," his uncle 
 answered. " This must be the skeleton of Jeffrey Kerr, and 
 these are the guineas he stole. The punishment followed 
 hard on the crime ; and it was the weight of the stolen money 
 which caused his death here at the bottom of the pool a few 
 minutes after the theft, and when it seemed as if he had 
 made his escape and got off scot-free. The retribution was 
 swift enough for once ; and the manner of it worked out a 
 singular case of poetic justice." 
 
 "These six or seven coins are not all the monej 7 , I sup- 
 pose ? " asked Cissy. 
 
 "Of course not," Tom declared; "there are two thousand 
 of them in all. We shall find them safe enough now." 
 
 " Shall I play the hose for you ? " Harry Zachary inquired. 
 
 "No," Mr. Rapallo answered. "I think we must abandon 
 Our hydraulic mining now. I 'm afraid the force of the 
 stream of water might wash away the coins before w 7 e could 
 get at them. We have found the gold now, and we had best 
 dig it out carefully ourselves." 
 19 
 
21 S TOM PAULDING. 
 
 He himself took the pickax, and gently loosened all the 
 earth about the upper part of the skeleton, which was not 
 as yet uncovered. Then, with the spades, the boys very cau- 
 tiously removed the sand from about the bones of the dead 
 man's body. Every spadeful taken away was sifted through 
 their fingers, and a little pile of guineas began to heap up 
 near the skull, where Tom had laid the bags he had brought 
 to carry home the treasure when he should find it. The stolen 
 money had been tied in four bags originally ; and they dis- 
 covered the coins in four separate heaps, but they had been 
 slightly scattered in the century and more between the loss 
 of the guineas by Nicholas Paulding and their recovery by 
 his great-grandson. 
 
 Two of these little heaps of coins were close together under 
 the thighs of the skeleton ; and it was from one of these 
 heaps that the first glittering guinea had been washed out, 
 
 " Uncle Dick," said Tom, as they picked up these coins and 
 put them in the bags, " do you remember that one of the pa- 
 pers I showed you said that Jeffrey Kerr had on a big over- 
 coat with pockets ? " 
 
 " Yes," Mr. Rapallo answered ; ' : what of it ? " 
 
 "Well," returned Tom, "I should n't wonder if these two 
 piles of gold here under the body were once in the two of the 
 bags which he had put into the pockets of his coat." 
 
 " I see," Mr. Rapallo responded ; " and you think these 
 pockets it was that weighted him down when he strug- 
 gled for life in the swift waters of the swollen brook? I 
 think it very likely." 
 
THE "WORKING HYPOTHESIS." 219 
 
 The two other heaps were not so near together. The bags 
 containing the coins in these piles had apparently been held 
 in his hands until the thief fell into the stream as he was 
 crossing the stepping-stones. With an involuntary clutch 
 he had carried them with him as he went down into the pool. 
 Perhaps he had then released them in his efforts to get free, 
 perhaps they also had been attached to his person. 
 
 " It may be that the man did not make any struggle at 
 all," said Mr. Rapallo, as they discussed these queries while 
 gathering the coins together and putting them in the new 
 bags. " He was fired on twice, remember ; and at the second 
 shot the sentry heard a cry of pain. Now it may be that he 
 was wounded and faint, and so had no strength left." 
 
 "I wonder — " Harry Zachary remarked, as he went up to 
 the bones and began to examine them carefully. " I reckon 
 you 're right, Mr. Rapallo," he cried a minute later. " That 
 second shot took him in the shoulder." 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Cissy Smith, skeptically. 
 
 " Here 's the hole in the bone," Harry answered ; " and here 
 is the bullet that made it." And with that he pulled out a 
 large leaden ball that had been fast to the shoidcler -blade. 
 
 " Then there can be no doubt now," said Mr. Rapallo, "as 
 to the identity of the skeleton before us, as to the cause of 
 his death, and as to the ownership of this gold. The more 
 we discover about this, the more closely does everything fit 
 together in accordance with Tom's f working hypothesis.' " 
 
 When they had picked up the last coin in the four heaps, 
 and after they had searched the sand below and on all sides 
 
220 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 without finding a single separate guinea, Mr. Rapallo said at 
 last, " I think our work is done. There is no use in our lin- 
 gering here and looking for more." 
 
 " There have been three more carts along here in the 
 last ten minutes," Cissy remarked ; " and I think it is 
 about time for us to light out, if we don't want a crowd 
 about us." 
 
 " That's so," Tom replied. " There may be a dozen people 
 down here before we know it." 
 
 u y erv W ell," Mr. Rapallo responded ; "we may get away at 
 once. But first let us at least give these poor bones a decent 
 burial-place. They belonged to a thief who died almost in 
 the act of stealing ; but he was our fellow-man, after all, and 
 we must do by him as we may hope to be done by." 
 
 Tom dug a light trench in the sand almost exactly where 
 they had first seen the skeleton, and Harry Zachary gathered 
 the bones together and placed them reverently in the grave. 
 Then Cissy and Tom shoveled sand over the skeleton, hiding 
 it from all prying eyes and heaping over it a mound, like 
 those seen in cemeteries. 
 
 When this was done decently and in order, Mr. Rapallo 
 bade the boys collect the spades and the pickax. He went 
 back to the hydrant and turned off the water. Then he took 
 off the hose and threw it over into the vacant block. Join- 
 ing the boys again, he unfastened the section of the hose to 
 which the nozle was attached, and this he coiled up to take 
 away with him. 
 
 " We '11 come back for the rest of the hose when it is dark," 
 
THE "WORKING HYPOTHESIS." 221 
 
 he explained. " For the present, we '11 leave it here. I doubt 
 whether anybody will notice it." 
 
 Then they took up their march homeward. Tom Paulding 
 carried two bags of the recovered guineas, but his heart was 
 so light that it seemed to him as if three times their weight 
 would be no burden. Cissy Smith and Harry Zachary had 
 each one of the other two bags. The boys also divided be- 
 tween them the pickax and the spades, as Mr. Rapallo was 
 heavily laden with a coil of hose. 
 
 They had kept no count of time while they had been at 
 work, and the hours had passed over them unperceived. The 
 sun now rode high on the horizon. The roar of the great 
 city rose on the air, only a little less resounding because the 
 day was a holiday. The rattle of carts in the neighboring 
 streets was frequent, so was the rolling of the trains on the 
 elevated railroad. The city was awake again, and it was 
 making ready to honor the dead heroes of the war, and to 
 deck their graves with green garlands and with the bright 
 flowers of the spring-time. 
 
 "If you don't mind, Tom," said Harry Zachary, as they 
 walked side by side, " I 'd like to keep the bullet." 
 
 " What bullet ? " asked Tom, in surprise. 
 
 " The ball I found in the dead man's shoulder," Harry ex- 
 plained. 
 
 " But it does n't belong to me," Tom declared. " You 
 found it. I suppose you 've a right to it." 
 
 "I want to keep it," Harry responded; "it 's a curious 
 thing to have in the house ; and I reckon it 's a talisman." 
 
222 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " A talisman ¥ " repeated Tom. 
 
 "Yes," Harry answered, "like those they have in the old 
 stories — something that will defend you from evil and bring 
 you luck. " 
 
 " Shucks ! " said Cissy Smith, forcibly. " Why should that 
 old bullet bring you any more luck than it brought Jeffrey 
 Ken* ? And it brought him to the bottom of the creek, and 
 it left him there." 
 
 " I can keep it if I want it, I reckon," Harry remarked, 
 placidly. 
 
 " Uncle Dick," Tom asked, " was n't that the Old Gentleman 
 who leaned over the Wall — the man who stood by the hy- 
 drant just as we found the gold ? " 
 
 "Yes," Mr. Rapallo answered; "that was Joshua Hoff- 
 mann." 
 
 " I did n't see him go away," Tom continued. " I wonder 
 how long he stayed there." 
 
 "I 'd like to know how he came to be there at all," cried 
 Cissy Smith. 
 
 " That 's so," Tom declared. " How did he know what we 
 were going to do ? " 
 
 Mr. Rapallo did not answer this direct question. Indeed, 
 he parried it by another. 
 
 "How did your friend Corkscrew happen to get up so 
 early ? " he asked. 
 
 "I guess he won't feel encouraged to try it again," 
 said Cissy. " You soused him well ! Oh, how he did 
 twist and squirm when you turned the hose full on him ! 
 
THE "WOKKING HYPOTHESIS." 223 
 
 It was more fun than the circus." And Cissy laughed 
 heartily at the recollection of Corkscrew's ludicrous ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 So did the other boys; and Mr. Rapallo joined in their 
 merriment. 
 
 " He did look a little surprised," said Uncle Dick. " I don't 
 believe he had expected quite so cold a welcome." 
 
 " If Corkscrew had only sprained his tongue instead of his 
 foot," suggested Cissy, " so that he could n't ask any more 
 questions, it would be money in his pocket." 
 
 " I 'd like to ask a question myself," Tom declared. " I 'd 
 like to know how Corkscrew got news of our enterprise. I 
 did n't tell him." 
 
 There was a guilty silence on the part of Harry Zachary, 
 as if he thought that possibly something he might have 
 hinted had been sufficient to bring Lott out of his bed at 
 daybreak, in the hope of finding out something he was not 
 meant to know. 
 
 By this time they had come to the flight of wooden steps 
 which led from the sidewalk to the knob of sand on which 
 stood Mrs. Paulding's house. 
 
 " Now, boys," said Mr. Rapallo, " I have to thank you for 
 the assistance you have been to us — " 
 
 " Yes," almost interrupted Tom, " I 'm ever so much obliged 
 to you both." 
 
 "I don't know what we should have done without your 
 aid," Mr. Rapallo continued. 
 
 " Oh, that 's nothing," said Cissy Smith. 
 
224 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " We 'd do twice as much if we could," said Harry Zachary. 
 
 " Now I 've got to ask one more favor/' Mr. Rapallo went 
 on. " I want you to promise me one thing." 
 
 " We '11 promise," replied Cissy. 
 
 " Of course," declared Harry. 
 
 " I want you to promise me," said Uncle Dick, " not to tell 
 anybody about this morning's work." 
 
 " What ? " cried Cissy, " not tell anybody ? " 
 
 "Not ever tell?" Harry asked. 
 
 It was obvious that both lads were grievously disappointed, 
 as they had hoped to set forth the whole story to all their 
 friends, with every interesting detail. Very few boys in 
 New York ever had a hand in the recovery of buried treas- 
 ure ; if they had to keep their share secret, Cissy and Harry 
 both felt that they were deprived of the advantage of the un- 
 usual situation. 
 
 "Not for the present," Mr. Rapallo said. "Of course I 
 know you will want to describe everything to your parents ; 
 and so you shall. But not to-day." 
 
 " To-morrow, then ? " asked Harry. 
 
 " Perhaps you may tell to-morrow," Mr. Rapallo replied. 
 "It is for the present only that I ask for secrecy. As soon 
 as I can release you from the promise, I will." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Cissy, frankly ; " I '11 promise." 
 
 " So will I," said Harry, with a sigh. 
 
 " If you are asked about anything, you can say that what 
 you did is Tom Paulding's secret, and that you have promised 
 to keep it solemnly," suggested Uncle Dick. 
 
THE "WORKING HYPOTHESIS." 225 
 
 " So we can," Harry responded ; " and I reckon that will 
 make them want to know all the more." 
 
 His friends handed Tom the two bags of the recovered 
 coins, and Mr. Rapallo relieved them of the spades. Then 
 Cissy Smith and Harry Zaehary departed. 
 
 When Tom and Uncle Dick stood at the top of the little 
 flight of stairs, they saw Pauline come flying out of the house 
 toward them. 
 
 " Remember, Tom," said his uncle, "you must not tell what 
 you have been doing — at least, not yet." 
 
 " I know that," Tom responded. 
 
 " Where have you two boys been ? " asked Polly. 
 
 " We Ve ' been to London to see the queen,' " replied Mr. 
 Rapallo, gravely. 
 
 "And what have you got in those bags? — those are the 
 ones I made for Tom, I 'm sure." 
 
 Tom looked at his uncle, and made no answer. 
 
 " That 's a. secret," said Uncle Dick, laughing lightly as they 
 went up the walk to the house. 
 
 " But I 'm so good," cried the coaxing Pauline. " I 'm so 
 good you ought to tell me everything." 
 
 Tom and Mr. Rapallo were able to resist her blandishments, 
 and the curiosity of Pauline was not satisfied that day. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 
 
 AULINE followed her uncle and her 
 brother rather despondently to the door 
 of the house. 
 
 " You need n't tell me anything if you 
 
 don't want to," she said ; " but I 'm good, 
 
 and I '11 tell you something — and it 's 
 
 something you '11 be glad to know, too. Breakfast is ready ! " 
 
 And with that Parthian shaft of magnanimous reproach, 
 
 she sped past them into the house. 
 
 " We had best get rid of the dirt before we go to table," 
 Mr. Rapallo suggested. 
 
 "Hydraulic mining is a pretty wet thing to do," Tom de- 
 clared. "I don't believe I 've got a dry rag on me; and 
 there 's sand in my shoes and in my hair and in my ears." 
 
 They went upstairs, and Tom hid the four precious bags 
 under the pillow of his bed ; and then he made himself pre- 
 sentable for the breakfast-table. 
 
 He and his uncle had agreed that, if they succeeded in find- 
 ing the treasure, they should keep it a secret until they had 
 sold the gold and with the proceeds paid off the mortgage 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 227 
 
 that worried Mrs. Paulding. Mr. Rapallo had explained to 
 Tom that as the mortgagee had requested payment of the 
 bond there probably would need to be no delay whatever. 
 They might go down-town the next morning, sell the gold 
 and pay the mortgage off, all in two hours. 
 
 Then Tom counted on the pleasure of going to his mother 
 with the canceled bond and mortgage, and making her a 
 present of it. In imagination he had gone over the scene 
 half a dozen times ; and he longed for the flash of joy which 
 would surely pass over Mrs. Paulding's face. 
 
 Yet when Tom and his uncle came down to breakfast that 
 Decoration Day morning, the temptation to tell his mother 
 the whole story was almost more than the boy could resist. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding saw that something had happened, and that 
 her son was in an unusual state of suppressed excitement. 
 But she would not ask for any specific explanation, knowing 
 that Tom had had Cissy and Harry in the house all night, 
 and that the three boys had gone out early with Mr. Rapallo. 
 To this daybreak excursion with her brother she ascribed all 
 her son's excitement, and she wondered a little what they had 
 been doing to cause it. But she had perfect confidence in her 
 brother and in her son, and she knew that the latter would 
 surely wish her to share in any pleasure he had enjoyed ; so 
 she asked no questions, content to be told whenever Tom was 
 ready to tell her, and unwilling to mar his delight in the tell- 
 ing by any obtrusive inquiries. 
 
 Pauline was less reticent. At least, she had less self-con- 
 trol. 
 
228 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Tom Paulding ! " she exclaimed, as her brother took his 
 seat at the table, " what is the matter with you this morning ? 
 And where have you been ? You are just bursting with 
 something to tell, and yet you won't let me know what it is." 
 
 " So you think Tom has something on his mind ? " asked 
 Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " Indeed I do," she answered. " Do you know what it is ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied her uncle. 
 
 " And will you tell me ? " she begged. " Remember that 
 I 'm your only niece, and I 'm so good." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I '11 tell you what Tom has on his mind, if you 
 want to know," said Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 Tom looked up at his uncle in surprise, but he caught the 
 twinkle in Mr. Rapallo's eye, and he was reassured. 
 
 "Well, what is it?" Polly demanded. " Tell me quickly." 
 
 "It is a secret ! " Mr. Rapallo answered solemnly. 
 
 " Oh, I know that," returned Polly, disappointed. 
 
 " Then I need not have told you," said her uncle. 
 
 " You have n't told me anything really," the little girl con- 
 tinued. "At least, you have n't told me what the secret is." 
 
 "If I told you that," Mr. Rapallo declared, with great 
 gravity, "it would not be a secret any more, — so it would be 
 no use to you." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Polly, " I never had an uncle as aggravoking 
 as you are." 
 
 " Still, if you will conquer your just resentment," Mr. Ra- 
 pallo went on, "and pass me my cup of tea, I shall take it as 
 a favor and seek for an occasion to do as much for you." 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 229 
 
 " Uncle Dick," said Pauline, " you are a goose ! " 
 
 " Pauline ! " called Mrs. Paulding', reprovingly. 
 
 " Oh, well, Uncle Dick knows what I mean," the little girl 
 explained. 
 
 " I deny that I am a goose," said Mr. Eapallo ; " but I will 
 admit that Tom and I have been out this morning on a wild- 
 goose chase." 
 
 " Did you get any ? " asked Pauline. 
 
 tt We got one," Mr. Rapallo replied ; " it was a goose with 
 golden eggs." 
 
 " But that 7 s only a story," said the little girl, doubtfully. 
 
 " This was only a story ; " her uncle answered, " but it came 
 true." 
 
 '•' I don't think it 's at all nice of you to puzzle me like this, 
 Uncle Dick," Pauline declared, as she took Mr. Rapallo's 
 teacup from her mother's hands and passed it to her uncle. 
 
 " Thank your ladyship," said Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " Oh," cried Polly, suddenly, " you are going to see two 
 girls ! " 
 
 " Am I ? " asked her uncle. " How do you know ? " 
 
 " That 's what Katie always says when she finds two tea- 
 leaves floating in the cup," Pauline explained. 
 
 " Ah," exclaimed Mr. Rapallo, " so two leaves in my cup 
 mean that I am to see two girls ? And if they had been in 
 your cup — " 
 
 " Then that would mean two boys," Polly broke in. " Of 
 course, I don't believe it at all, but that 's what Katie says. 
 She believes all sorts of things." 
 20 
 
230 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " And where is the Brilliant Conversationahst this morn- 
 ing?" asked Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " I think I heard the postman's whistle a minute ago," Mrs. 
 Paulding answered; "she has probably gone out for the 
 letters." 
 
 The Brilliant Conversationalist came in just then, with two 
 letters in her hand. One she gave Mrs. Paulding, and the 
 other she placed before Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " There 's only one for you, Mr. Richard," she said, with 
 kindly interest. " Ye don't be gettin' as many as ye did." 
 
 " I 'm in luck to-day as well as you, Tom," said Mr. Rapallo, 
 when he had glanced over his letter, which he then folded up 
 and put in his pocket without further remark. 
 
 "How is Tom in luck to-day?" asked Polly. 
 
 " That is part of the secret," answered her uncle. 
 
 " I don't like secrets," she replied, haughtily. "And I 'm 
 going to have some of my own," she added, hastily, " just to 
 tease you." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo laughed at this inconsistent threat. Tom 
 silently went on with his breakfast, scarcely trusting himself 
 to speak, for fear that he might say more than he meant, 
 
 Mrs. Paulding had been reading her letter ; and now she 
 laid it down with a sigh. 
 
 " It 's about that mortgage, Richard," she said, with anxiety 
 and weariness in her voice ; " they want it paid as soon as I 
 can pay it." 
 
 "Perhaps that will be sooner than you think, Mother," 
 cried Tom, involuntarily. 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 231 
 
 " I agree with Tom," exclaimed Mr. Rapallo, hastily break- 
 ing in. "Yon can never tell what may turn up. Perhaps 
 there may be good fortune in store for you." 
 
 " I 'm not much of a believer in luck," said Mrs. Paulding, 
 sadly. 
 
 "But, Mother, I know — " began Tom, impulsively. 
 
 Again Mr. Rapallo interrupted him sharply. " Tom." he 
 cried, " if you have finished your breakfast, we 11 go upstairs. 
 You may remember that we have something to do there." 
 
 "Now what can you have to do on Decoration Day morn- 
 ing, 1 'd like to know," Polly declared. " I think this keep- 
 ing of secrets and making allusions and hints is just too 
 annoying for anything." 
 
 "Uncle Dick is right," said Tom, rising from the table. 
 " We have work to do to-day." 
 
 Then he went around to his mother and put his arm about 
 her and kissed her. He patted Polly's curls as he passed out 
 of the room, and she shook her head indignantly. 
 
 When they were upstairs Mr. Rapallo said to Tom, " You 
 came pretty near giving yourself away, then." 
 
 "I know I did," Tom answered. "I could n't bear to see 
 my mother worrying about money when I 've got enough 
 here to make her comfortable." 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Mr. Rapallo. " You have n't 
 counted it yet." 
 
 " I '11 do it now," Tom responded, and he took a bag from 
 under his pillow and emptied it out on the bed. Then he 
 rapidly counted the coins into little heaps of ten each. There 
 
,232 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 were forty-nine of these in the first bag, and three pieces 
 over. 
 
 " You have made a pretty even division among the bags, 
 apparently," said Mr. Rapallo. "Two thousand guineas in 
 four equal parts would be five hundred in each bag ; and you 
 have four hundred and ninety-three in that one." 
 
 " I '11 count the others," Tom exclaimed, "and perhaps one 
 of them has seven guineas more than its share." 
 
 " You must not expect to find every one of the two thou- 
 sand guineas," Mr. Rapallo declared ; " that would be a little 
 too much. You must be satisfied if you have nineteen hun- 
 dred or thereabouts. It is a mistake to be too grasping. I 
 wonder if I am doing right myself, in trying for more than, 
 I can get now ? You know that I have been at work on a lit- 
 tle invention? — well, that letter I got this morning brought 
 me a very good offer for all my rights in it." 
 
 " Are you going to take it 1 " asked Tom, as he ranged the 
 contents of the second bag in little heaps of ten. 
 
 " I think not," his uncle answered. " I hope I can do better." 
 
 "There are five hundred and two in this bag," Tom de- 
 clared. 
 
 " That is to say," Mr. Rapallo commented, " you have nine 
 hundred and ninety-five in the two bags. At that rate you 
 would be short only ten guineas in the two thousand." 
 
 And this was almost exactly as it turned out. The third 
 bag contained f our hundred and seventy-f our, and the fourth 
 had five hundred and eighteen. Thus in the four bags there 
 were nineteen hundred and eighty-seven of the two thousand 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 233 
 
 guineas stolen from Tom's great-grandfather. Only thirteen 
 of them had been washed away or missed by the eager fin- 
 gers of Tom and his friends. 
 
 "How much in our money will nineteen hundred and 
 eighty-seven guineas be ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " A little more than ten thousand dollars, I think," his uncle 
 answered. 
 
 " Ten thousand dollars ! " repeated the boy, awed by the 
 amount. 
 
 "That is, if you get only the bullion value of the gold," 
 continued Mr. Rapallo. " Perhaps some of the separate coins 
 here may have a value of their own, from their rarity. There 
 may be guineas of Queen Anne and of William and Mary. 
 Some of them are perhaps worth two or three times their 
 weight as mere specie." 
 
 As Mr. Rapallo was speaking, Tom was rapidly turning 
 over the little heaps that had come out of the fourth bag, 
 which was still on his bed. 
 
 " These are all George the Third," he said, " every one of 
 them. There is n't a coin in this heap that has n't his head 
 on it." 
 
 " That is curious," said his uncle. 
 
 "And these are all of the same year, too," cried Tom. 
 " Seventeen hundred and seventy." 
 
 " That is rather remarkable," Mr. Rapallo declared ; " but I 
 suppose you have there the contents of one of the old bags 
 which had been filled from a stock of coin received at one 
 shipment from the mint in London." 
 
'234 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 "But the other bags are all the same," Tom returned, 
 quickly examining the handful of coins he had taken from 
 one t of the other bags. 
 
 " They can't be all alike," Uncle Dick responded. " Two 
 thousand guineas of the same mintage would be very unlikely 
 to be paid out all at once six years after the date." 
 
 " I have n't found a single guinea of any year but seven- 
 teen seventy," said Tom, looking at coin after coin. 
 
 " That is certainly suspicious," Mr. Rapallo remarked. 
 
 " Suspicious ? " echoed Tom. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Uncle Dick, starting up. " I hope not ! And 
 yet it would explain one thing." 
 
 " What is it ? " Tom asked, with a first faint chill of doubt. 
 
 Mr. Rapallo did not answer. He went into his own room 
 and came back at once, with a small stone in his hand and a 
 glass bottle containing a colorless liquid. 
 
 Setting the bottle down on the table, he took at random a 
 guinea from each of the four bags ; and with each he made 
 a mark on the stone, on the fine grain of which he rubbed off 
 a bit of the soft metal. Then he put down the coins, and, tak- 
 ing up the glass stopper of the bottle, he touched a drop of 
 the liquid to the four marks. They turned dark and disap- 
 peared. Mr. Rapallo sighed, and cast a glance of pity on his 
 nephew. 
 
 Then he plunged his hand deep down into each of the four 
 1 tags in turn and drew forth four more guineas, and tested 
 these as he had tested the first four ; and again the marks 
 turned dark and disappeared. 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVEKY. 
 
 235 
 
 " Uncle Dick, what are you doing? " cried Tom. " Is any- 
 thing — " 
 
 " Tom," said Mr. Rapallo, placing his hand affectionately 
 
 "taking up the stopper, he touched a drop ok the liquid to the marks." 
 
 on the boy's shoulder, " are you strong enough to learn the 
 truth at once ? " 
 
 "What do you mean?" Tom asked, rising involuntarily, 
 with a sudden iciness of his hands and feet. 
 
 " I mean," his uncle answered, slowly, " that I am afraid 
 
236 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 that all these guineas you have toiled for so bravely are 
 counterfeit." 
 
 " Counterfeit ? " repeated the boy. 
 
 " Yes," Mr. Rapallo replied ; " I have tested eight of these 
 coins taken at random, and no one of them is gold. I am 
 afraid there is not a genuine guinea in all your two thousand 
 here." 
 
 Tom said nothing for a minute or more. He drew a long 
 breath and stared straight before him. He heard the waver- 
 ing whistle of a river steamer ; and then he caught the faint 
 notes of a brass band leading a local post of the Grand Army 
 of the Republic to take part in the procession of the day. 
 
 At last he looked up at his uncle, and said, " Poor mother ! 
 I 've no surprise for her now." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 COUNSEL. 
 
 NCLE DICK laid his hand gently on Tom 
 Paulding's shoulder. 
 
 "Brace up, my boy/' said he, with 
 sympathy in his voice. " You have met 
 with a misfortune ; and just now it seems 
 to you as if the world was all hung with 
 black, and life not worth living. Look up, and you will see 
 that the sun is still shining outside. Live to be as old as I 
 am, and you will learn to expect little and to be satisfied with 
 less. In the meanwhile, keep a stout heart." 
 
 " I have thought about this so long, Uncle Dick," replied 
 the boy; "I have n't thought of anything else for months 
 now; and the money meant so much to us all — it 's hard to 
 have to give it up all of a sudden, just when we 'd laid hands 
 on it at last." 
 
 " I know," his uncle responded. " The blow is hard to bear 
 at best, and you got it at the very moment when it was the 
 hardest to stand. I see that, and I am heartily sorry for you. 
 But you must not give up the struggle because you have lost 
 the first skirmish." 
 
238 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " You are right, I know," Tom returned, sadly. " But I 
 had so many good uses for those two thousand guineas. 
 They would have paid off the mortgage and kept mother from 
 worrying any more about that. Then I could have had an 
 education, as my father had and my grandfather — they were 
 both graduated from Columbia College, you know — and I 
 wanted to work at the School of Mines. Now I shall have to 
 go into a store ; of course, I shall try and do my best there ; 
 but I don't believe that 's what I can do best. I like out- 
 doors, and the open air, and I used to see myself working 
 hard in the mountains, planning a mine and looking after 
 the work. Well," and he sighed again, " that 's all over now," 
 and as he said this there was a lump in his throat. 
 
 " Perhaps not," his uncle remarked, quietly. 
 
 "But you said this money is all counterfeit?" Tom re- 
 turned. 
 
 " I think so," Uncle Dick declared. 
 
 " Well, then ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " This is not all the money there is in the world," Mr. Ra- 
 pallo replied, cheerfully, " nor have you no other chances but 
 the one which has gone back on you this morning. Things 
 are never as bad as we think they are at first." 
 
 "I think I know just how bad this thing is — for me," said 
 the boy, gloomily. 
 
 " You valued the finding of this buried treasure," his uncle 
 responded, "because of the uses you could put it to — the 
 relief of your mother, your own education, certain advan- 
 tages for your sister. Well, these are all things which may 
 
COUNSEL. 239 
 
 be obtained in other ways — perhaps not all at once, but in 
 time." 
 
 " I don't see how," said Tom, doubtfully. 
 
 "Neither do I now," Mr. Rapallo replied; "if I did, I 
 should show you at once. But you did not mean to keep 
 your two thousand guineas as a miser's hoard to gloat over — " 
 
 " Of course I did n't," cried Tom, forcibly. 
 
 "-As you intended to spend it to produce certain results," 
 his uncle went on, " the loss of this money is the loss only of 
 one of the means by which these results could be secured. 
 There are other ways of accomplishing them. You and I 
 must look them up. ^ I am sure that we shall find something 
 — even if it is not all we seek. You know that we make a 
 mistake if we expect the millennium over-night ; in my ex- 
 perience it rarely comes before the day after to-morrow." 
 
 Tom smiled faintly at this speech of his uncle's ; and Mr. 
 Rapallo, who had been waiting for this smile, held out his 
 hand and gave the boy a. hearty clasp. 
 
 "Now, do you remember, Tom," he asked, cheerily, as 
 though determined not to be downcast, " that you once told 
 me that there were two things that puzzled you when you 
 had first gone through the box of papers ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered his nephew. "First, I wanted to know 
 where the money was ; and second, I wondered why my grand- 
 father had given over the search so suddenly, as it seemed." 
 
 " We have solved both problems, I think, by this morning's 
 work," Mr. Rapallo remarked. "You found the money as 
 you had hoped, that was one thing; and then you found 
 
240 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 that it was counterfeit, and perhaps that was the reason of 
 the other." 
 
 " Do you think my grandfather knew that the two thou- 
 sand guineas were not really gold ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " Yes," answered his uncle. 
 
 " And that that was the reason why he gave over the search 
 all at once ? " Tom pursued. 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Dick for the second time. 
 
 "But how could he know that?" cried the boy. "We 
 did n't find it out till we had found the money, and we know 
 he did n't find the money." 
 
 " Then he must have made the discovery in some' other 
 way," declared Uncle Dick. " From whom did your great- 
 grandfather get the two thousand guineas ? " 
 
 "From a man named Simon Horwitz," answered Tom. 
 Then suddenly he cried, " Oh ! " 
 
 "Well?" said his uncle. 
 
 "Well, I think you must be right," the boy explained. 
 "My grandfather must have been told of the fraud, and that 
 the buried treasure was n't worth bothering about. And the 
 way he knew this was, somehow, from the only man who 
 knew about the cheat." 
 
 " You mean Simon Horwitz ? " asked Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " I '11 show you in a minute," said Tom, as he pulled out 
 the box of old papers and began to turn them over hastily in 
 search of a particular paper. At last he found what he was 
 seeking, and placed a folded piece of foolscap in his uncle's 
 hands. 
 
COUNSEL. 241 
 
 " There ! " he said. 
 
 "This is indorsed 'Notes of Horwitz's Confession/ but 
 there is nothing inside," Mr. Rapallo said, as he turned the 
 paper over. "However, I think I see how it was. When 
 your grandfather was collecting all possible information 
 about the stolen guineas, he finally got from the man who 
 had given his father the money a confession that it had been 
 paid in counterfeit coin — that would account for the suspi- 
 cious delay in its payment, too. Thereupon of course your 
 grandfather ceased all effort to discover the whereabouts of 
 the stolen money — which was really not money at all. He 
 indorsed the cover of these ' Notes of Horwitz's Confession ' 
 and put it with the other papers, or thought he did. At all 
 events, the cover of this confession is preserved with the other 
 papers. And we find it too late, when we have had all our 
 labor in vain." 
 
 " That would account for everything that used to puzzle 
 me," Tom responded. 
 
 "Now, if I were you," said Mr. Rapallo, "I would go for 
 your friends, Cissy Smith and Harry Zachary, and get them 
 up here in this room ; and I would tell them all about the 
 counterfeit coin; and I would release them at once from 
 their pledge of secrecy." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Dick," cried Tom, " would you let them tell 
 everybody ? " 
 
 " Why not?" asked his uncle. "You cannot expect them 
 
 to keep our morning's work a secret forever." 
 
 " I suppose not," said Tom, doubtfully. 
 21 
 
242 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " Well, then/' Mr. Rapallo continued, " the sooner they get 
 it over the better. Let them tell the whole story at once. 
 And the final surprise about the counterfeit money will make 
 the tale only the more interesting." 
 
 " That 's so," Tom assented, perceiving at once the force of 
 this suggestion. 
 
 "You see, Tom," continued his uncle, "people generally 
 will not know that you were going to do anything in particu- 
 lar with the money, and they will never suspect your great 
 disappointment. Of course you need not tell anybody about 
 that." 
 
 " Of course not," Tom declared, with undue emphasis. 
 
 " Except your mother," Mr. Rapallo added. 
 
 " Must she know ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " Certainly," was the firm answer. " Go and tell her and 
 Polly all about it at once. You may be sure that your mother 
 will be glad to learn that you wanted the money to help her." 
 
 " I think she would have been pleased if we could have 
 gone into her room and shown her the mortgage all paid off," 
 said Tom, sighing again. " But there 's no use thinking of 
 that now." 
 
 " I 've an appointment," Mr. Rapallo declared, looking at 
 his watch, " or at least I am going to try to see a friend be- 
 fore he goes out. Will you come into your mother's room 
 with me before I go ? " 
 
 " Yes," Tom answered. " I may as well get it over as soon 
 as I can." 
 
 Mr. Rapallo led the way to Mrs. Paulding's room, the door 
 
COUNSEL. 
 
 243 
 
 of which stood wide open, as usual. Tom's mother was seated 
 by the window, and by her side there was a basket of the 
 household linen, which she was repairing. Pauline had a 
 low chair by her mother's ; and she was hemming' towels. 
 
 'TOM TOLD HER THE WHOLE STORY. 
 
 " Just look at that hem, Uncle Dick ! " cried Polly, as Mr. 
 Rapallo entered the room. " I think it 's as good, almost, as 
 if it had been done on a machine." 
 
 "Is there any trouble?" asked Mrs. Paulding, reading the 
 faces of her brother and her son. 
 
244 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 " No," answered Mr. Rapallo. " There is no trouble of any 
 kind, but Tom has had a sore disappointment, and I think it 
 will do him good to tell you all about it." 
 
 Mrs. Paulding looked up, and Tom bent over and kissed 
 her. 
 
 " Tom is a little crushed just now, Mary," Uncle Dick con- 
 tinued. " But he will get over it, and it won't hurt him. A 
 boy is a little like a ball : you throw it down and it bounds 
 up unhurt — that is, if it has any spring in it ; and Tom has 
 plenty of that." 
 
 When Mr. Rapallo had left them, Mrs. Paulding looked 
 up at Tom again with a smile, and said, " Now, my boy, tell 
 me all your trouble." 
 
 And Tom told her the whole story, his hopes, his expecta- 
 tions, his success, his disappointment. While he was telling 
 it, his mother's quick sympathy sustained and cheered him. 
 And when he had told her everything, he felt comforted, and 
 the world was no longer hung with black. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 FTER telling his mother and his sister the 
 circumstances and the result of the quest 
 which had occupied his mind for six 
 months and more, Tom Paulding felt 
 a little better. Already he was able to 
 bear the poignant disappointment more 
 bravely, and he tried to keep down the bitterness he had 
 felt at first. By resolute determination he put away all 
 repining, and so, as the day wore on, he began to pick up 
 heart again. 
 
 In the afternoon he took Harry Zachary and Cissy Smith 
 up into his own room, and he explained how it was that their 
 labors were in vain. He showed them the counterfeit coins 
 and repeated for them Mr. Rapallo's test with the touch- 
 stone. 
 
 " If we 'd only known," said Cissy, " that the gold we were 
 after was n't gold at all, we would n't have been so keen after 
 it, and we should n't have tried so hard to throw Corkscrew 
 off the scent." 
 
246 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 ' : I don't think I ever read of a buried treasure/' remarked 
 Harry, " that was n't real. It ? s just as though the wicked 
 magician had got hold of the secret talisman and had changed 
 the coins from gold to dross." 
 
 "Shucks!" returned Cissy, forcibly; "the only wicked 
 magician was that Simon Horwitz, and he 'd have to have 
 had a talisman against old age and death, if he wanted to 
 be alive now." 
 
 " Do you want us to keep this a secret any longer ? " asked 
 Harry, a little anxiously. 
 
 " No," Tom answered, " Uncle Dick says that the sooner it 
 is known the sooner it will be forgotten." 
 
 " I don't want to forget it," was Cissy's reply. " I enjoyed 
 all I had to do with it. And if it had been twice the trouble, 
 I 'd have done it three times over, just for a sight of Cork- 
 screw Lott twisting himself up into a double-bow knot when 
 your uncle got the range on him ! " 
 
 Even Tom was moved to laughter when he recalled the sur- 
 prise expressed on Lott's face when he first received the full 
 force of the stream of water. 
 
 At school the next day, when the news had spread, Tom 
 was overwhelmed with questions of all sorts. Fortunately 
 the comments of Corkscrew Lott were not made in Tom's 
 hearing, or there might have been a renewal of the Battle of 
 the Curls. Apparently Corkscrew remembered that decisive 
 combat ; and what he had to say about Tom Paulding's silly 
 conduct was said behind Tom Paulding's back. No doubt 
 this was wisest, for it is greatly to be feared that a fight 
 
CONCLUSION. 247 
 
 would have been a great relief to Tom's feelings just then. 
 Perhaps Corkscrew was shrewd enough to suspect this ; at 
 any rate, he kept out of Tom's way, and there was no overt 
 act of hostility. Since the Battle of the Curls Corkscrew had 
 continued to grow, and he was now nearly six feet high ; he 
 was by far the tallest boy in the school, and his long boots 
 served to exaggerate his height ; but Tom was in a frame of 
 mind that would have made it dangerous for any one to have 
 stood up before him in a fair fight. 
 
 At dinner that night Mr. Rapallo was late. He was a little 
 quieter than usual, perhaps, and took pleasure in drawing 
 Polly out and in getting her to talk about her school and her 
 school friends. 
 
 The little girl mentioned that one of her friends was in bed 
 with a bad attack of " new-mown hay." 
 
 Uncle Dick was puzzled. "I suppose you mean 'hay- 
 fever,' " he said, " but this is not the season for it." 
 
 "It is n't 'hay-fever' at all," she declared, "it 's new-mown 
 hay ; that 's what the doctor called it." 
 
 " Oh ! " and her uncle laughed out, " I see now. You mean 
 pneumonia." 
 
 " That 's just what I said," Polly asserted. 
 
 " Mary," said Mr. Rapallo, turning to Mrs. Paulding, " you 
 do not know how happy I have been here with you ; and I 
 myself don't yet know how much I shall miss you all." 
 
 " You are not going away ? " asked Mrs. Paulding. 
 
 "Again?" cried Polly; "and you have only just come 
 back." 
 
248 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 Tom said nothing, but lie looked at his uncle ; and Mr. 
 Rapallo knew by this glance how much his nephew would 
 regret his departure. 
 
 " I am going away to-night," Uncle Dick declared. 
 
 " To-night?" echoed Polly. 
 
 " I hope you will not be gone so long as you were the last 
 time," Mrs. Paulding exclaimed. 
 
 " I 'm afraid I shall be gone longer," Mr. Rapallo answered. 
 " In fact, I don't know when I shall be back. I 'm a rolling 
 stone, you see, and I am always rolling on and trying to 
 gather moss. I leave New York to-night for San Francisco, 
 and next week I expect to sail for Australia." 
 
 " But you won't stay there long ? " Polly inquired. 
 
 "I doubt if I do," he answered; "for I have to go to 
 Japan and China and India. And when I shall get back 
 here again, I cannot venture even to guess — probably not 
 for several years." 
 
 "Oh, Richard," said Mrs. Paulding, "I had hoped you 
 would settle down here with us ! " 
 
 "I hoped so, too," her brother replied, "but I 'm a wan- 
 derer on the face of the earth, and there is no use in my try- 
 ing to cast anchor anywhere. I 've got to go out again into 
 deep water now, and I suppose I may try to make myself 
 believe that I start unwillingly; but I don't deceive my- 
 self. I 'm getting restless again ; I 've seen the symptoms 
 for some time ; to-day the fever was at its height, so I took 
 up with an offer Joshua Hoffmann made me, and I start off 
 to-night." 
 
CONCLUSION. 249 
 
 " Then Marmee won't get her Chr — " Polly was going to 
 finish with " — istmas present," when she remembered 
 herself. 
 
 " Yes, she will," Uncle Dick remarked. 
 
 "I did n't say it out — not all of it," explained Pauline, 
 blushing. 
 
 "And I did n't need you to remind me about it," her uncle 
 responded, smiling. 
 
 Tom was sitting still, saying nothing, and thinking that 
 his uncle's absence would leave a great void in the household, 
 and almost wishing that he, too, might go to see these strange 
 countries, Australia and India, China and Japan. 
 
 " When I went away at the beginning of the year," Mr. 
 Rapallo continued, " I was working out a little invention. I 
 had to travel about here and there, investigating and im- 
 proving my model. At last I completed it, and yesterday a 
 man to whom I had shown it wrote and offered me a good 
 price for it. I thought of refusing at first, but I went to 
 see him yesterday afternoon, and we had a long talk, and 
 finally I accepted the offer. This morning I received my 
 money. It was a little more than I needed to pay off the 
 mortgage on this house — " 
 
 " Richard ! " cried Mrs. Paulding, her eyes filling with tears, 
 while Tom's face flushed with sudden pleasure. 
 
 "And I thought that was the best thing I could do with 
 the money," Mr. Rapallo went on ; " so Mr. Duncan and 
 I arranged with the lawyer of the mortgagee, and here 
 is the document canceled. The first of June is a little 
 
250 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 late for a Christmas present, I know ; but better late than 
 never." 
 
 " I do not think I ought to let you give me this money of 
 yours," said Mrs. Paulding. 
 
 "I do not think you can help yourself," answered her 
 brother. "The deed is done — or at least the mortgage is, 
 and that leaves the deed free. If Tom had had better luck 
 with his hydraulic mining, I should n't have interfered with 
 his intended arrangements, of course." 
 
 " I wanted to pay off the mortgage myself," said Tom, " but 
 I 'd rather have you do it than any one else ; and of course 
 1 'm delighted that it is done. Mother won't worry now, — 
 that was what I wanted most." 
 
 "I know that," his uncle replied, "but you want to go to 
 the School of Mines also if you can, don't you ? " 
 
 " Now with the mortgage no longer hanging over me, I 
 think I can manage that," Mrs. Paulding declared. 
 
 " I think it can be arranged without any expense to you," 
 Mr. Rapallo responded. 
 
 " How ? " cried Tom. " I wish it could ! " 
 
 " Well," Uncle Dick began, " I '11 tell you how. Mr. Joshua 
 Hoffmann — " 
 
 "That 's the Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall, 
 is n't it ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " The Old Gentleman who leaned over the Wall is Mr. 
 Joshua Hoffmann," Mr. Rapallo replied. " He is an old friend 
 of mine, and it is on his business that I am going to the East. 
 One day when you passed us I told him about you, Tom, 
 
CONCLUSION. 253 
 
 and about your quest for buried treasure ; and that is why 
 he was standing by the hydrant yesterday morning when we 
 were experimenting with the ' working hypothesis.' He was 
 greatly interested in your success ; he liked your hammer- 
 ing out your puzzle for yourself J and he was glad that you 
 wanted a scientific education. When I told him about the 
 unfortunate end of our wild-goose chase — how we had found 
 a goose that laid eggs of imitation gold — he listened most 
 attentively and with real sympathy. This morning he said 
 to me, 'If that nephew of yours wants to come to me for 
 the summer as a sort of private secretary — you say he writes 
 a good hand — I '11 take him with me on the Rhadamaiithus; 
 and if I find him to be what I think he is, I '11 send him to 
 the School of Mines at my own expense and give him a place 
 at the Eldorado Works when he graduates. A boy with 
 gumption and with grit — that 's the kind of boy I like to 
 have about me.' " 
 
 " Oh, Uncle ! " cried Tom. 
 
 " Will you accept ? " asked Mr. Rapallo. 
 
 " Won't I ! " Tom returned. " That is, if mother can spare 
 me this summer." 
 
 " I shall miss you, my boy, no doubt," Mrs. Paulding an- 
 swered, " but of course you must go. The chance is too good 
 to lose." 
 
 So it came to pass that Tom Paulding went on a quest for 
 biuied treasure ; and found it ; and it was worthless. He 
 wanted the money for a double purpose ; and these things 
 
 90 
 
254 TOM PAULDING. 
 
 came about in other ways. Yet his wild-goose chase had 
 not been a piece of folly; he felt himself stronger for the 
 striving, and perhaps he was stronger for the disappoint- 
 ment. > 
 
 Whether his quest had been altogether a failure or not was 
 a question Tom Paulding never solved. Sometimes it seemed 
 to him that perhaps it may be a bad thing for a boy of New 
 York at the end of the nineteenth century to expect to find 
 buried treasure ready to his hand ; the boy might just as 
 well hope to have a fairy godmother. Now, we all know 
 that fairy godmothers are very infrequent nowadays — in fact 
 it may be said that they have gone quite out of fashion. 
 
 THE END.