"I guess you're right. We must be prudent. If we could only get away with the whole sum it would make us comfortable for a year or two."

"How much is there?"

"Well, there are eight thousand dollars in government bonds, and five Union Pacific bonds of a thousand dollars each. They're safe as governments."

"Thirteen thousand dollars!" said Temple, in a tone of gratification.

"Yes, and more, for the bonds are all at premium. However, we must lay back for a reward. It won't do to negotiate them."

While this conversation had been going on Temple indicated the spot which he thought suitable, and, with a spade which he carried, had commenced excavating a hole sufficiently large for the purpose.

He dug to a depth of about eighteen inches, the box being eight inches in height, and carefully deposited it in the cavity.

Then both replaced a part of the earth, and carried away the remainder to the distance of a hundred feet or so. Finally they brought a quant.i.ty of leaves and covered the spot.

"There," said Temple, with a look of satisfaction; "it's safe enough now. It'll take a smart detective to find it, I reckon."

"You're right there, Ralph," said his companion. "It would be a bad sort of joke if we couldn't find it ourselves," he added, after a pause.

"I can find it, never you fear!" said Temple. "I know these woods as well as anybody, and shan't forget the spot."

"All the same, I wish I had some of that money now. I'm almost dead broke."

"So am I; but I can let you have enough to get back to the city."

"And suppose," said Vernon, with an uneasy look, "you should take a fancy to remove that box while I am away?"

"Don't be afraid. Ralph Temple isn't that kind of a man. He'll stand by his pard and treat him fair."

"It would be a rough trick to play on me, Ralph," said Vernon, apparently not quite free from uneasiness.

"So it would; but there is no danger. Even if I did couldn't you expose the whole thing, and have me arrested?"

"So I could," returned Vernon, more rea.s.sured by this consideration than by his faith in Temple's fair dealing.

"Well, if you're all ready, we may as well vanish. You can stay with me to-night, and go to the city in the morning. Watch the papers, and see if there is anything that promises advantage to us."

"All right."

The two men moved off, much to Harry's relief. He was in momentary dread of a sneeze, and this would betray his whereabouts to Temple and his partner.

What these two desperate men would have done to him, had they discovered him, it was not easy to guess; but, under the influence of vexation and alarm, they might have brought upon him worse trouble than any he had yet experienced.

Such, indeed, was likely, from what he knew of Ralph Temple. He was generally considered a disreputable character, and the villagers were ignorant as to how he made his living.

From time to time he came to the village store provided with money; but where it came from no one knew, as he was not known to do anything, except to roam the fields and woods with his gun. Sometimes he disappeared for a week or a fortnight at a time, but where he went, unless to the city, no one knew.

Harry conjectured, from what he had just seen, that Temple was in league with wicked men in the city, with whom he was engaged in violations of the law, and in this surmise he was correct.

He understood a little better now Ralph Temple's object in selecting as his abode this lonely and out-of-the-way place.

Harry did not venture to descend from his elevated perch until the two men had ample time to get beyond sight and hearing.

When he touched the ground, he first scanned the tree and its vicinity carefully, so as to make sure he could find it again, and then hurried home.

CHAPTER XVIII

HARRY'S COMMISSION

It may be well imagined that Harry was in a thrill of excitement as he walked home. He had just witnessed what was undoubtedly an attempt to conceal the proceeds of a burglary. He, and he alone, outside of the guilty parties, knew where the booty was deposited, and he asked himself what was his duty under the circ.u.mstances.

Of course he had no sympathy with Temple and Vernon. They had made themselves the enemies of society, and he was in duty bound to defeat their criminal plans, if possible, and restore the property to its legal owner or owners.

Here a difficulty stared him in the face. He didn't know to whom the tin box and its contents belonged, for not a word had been dropped by the two thieves which could inform him. They had made up their minds, however, to wait till a reward should be offered, and then come forward and claim it, or, at any rate, open negotiations through others looking to that result.

Why could not Harry learn, in like manner, who had been robbed, and communicate with them? This seemed to him the most sensible course.

Here, again, there was another difficulty. In the little country village he was not in a position to see any such notice, for they took no daily paper, and, though Mr. Mead did, his inquiry for it would excite curiosity and lead to questionings. It seemed necessary for him to go to New York.

"Shall I tell mother, or not?" he asked himself.

On the whole, he thought it better not to do so. So far as he was concerned, his mother was timid, and she would be anxious lest he should incur the hostility of the two lawless men of whose crime he had come into the knowledge. Yet he wanted to consult somebody, for he felt that the matter was one of no little importance, and that he needed a man's counsel.

"I'll speak to Uncle Obed about it," he said to himself. "He isn't used to cities, to be sure, but he has had a long life, and must have considerable experience. At any rate, he will be better qualified than I to know what ought to be done."

He had scarcely come to this conclusion before he reached the cottage.

His mother, with a troubled expression of countenance, was sitting at the table, not sewing or mending, as usual, but with her hands clasped in her lap, while near her sat Uncle Obed, also looking sober.

"I am sure something has happened to Harry," she had just been saying.

"I never knew him to stay out so long without telling me."

"Boys will be boys," answered the old man, not knowing what else to say.

"He's gone off on some lark with some of his playmates."

"But he never does that without telling me, Mr. Wilkins. He's always so considerate."

"He'll be coming home safe and sound, depend upon it," said Uncle Obed, with a confidence greater than he actually felt.

"Perhaps he has fallen from a tree--he was always fond of climbing--and broken his leg," suggested Mrs. Gilbert, dolefully.

"He's too smart for that," said Uncle Obed.

"What should I do if he never came home?" exclaimed the poor woman, with a shudder.

Mr. Wilkins was hardly prepared to answer this question, and, luckily, it was not necessary, for just then the latch was lifted and Harry walked in.