“Who put the treasure there?”

“Cap’n Kidd, they said.  They lay everything on him.  Why, folks has come from all round.  One crowd formed a jint-stock company, an’ sold shares, an’ skun a whole pile of money outer people.  Another man come in his yacht, an’ he fetched a feller with him who could find treasure with his eyes shut, so he said.  He was one of these wizards, an’ he had a divinin’ rod.  His divinin’ rod led him right up to a hummock in the middle of the island, an’ they dug there, an’ fetched up against the skeleton of an old dead hoss.  That got ‘em all excited, an’ they pitched in an’ dug like Sancho.  But they never found nothin’ ‘cept the old hoss, an’ so the wizard went back to town, an’ took his divinin’ rod with him.  Then there was a lot of college fellers come an’ camped out there all summer, once.  I see ’em at it, two or three times.  They was playin’ base-ball, mostly.  One of ’em had a map that he’d got outer some old book, an’ he let me look at it.  Accordin’ to the bearin’s of the island it might have been most anywhere between Fundy an’ Key West, but it was good enough for this feller.  He was sure it meant Fishback.”

“Where did you dig?”

“Oh, round anywhere.  I just did it for fun, between two fishin’ trips.  You can go over an’ see the island this afternoon, if yer want to.  Just go over to the mainland, an’ take the hoss-car to Squid Cove.  There’ll be someone that will let yer take a boat across to Fishback.”

An hour later we sailed into Bailey’s Harbor.  This was the only village of any size on Little Duck Island.  A number of huts and houses, with one or two shops, stood about the head of the inlet.  Behind them a road led up a hill, and then branched,—­one road going off to the north-east, for the island was three or four miles long.  The other road joined the causeway which had been built across the marsh in the rear of the island.  Only this marsh separated the island from the mainland,—­it was only an island in name, now.

We came to anchor, and the Captain started us off on our trip to the place where the treasure was supposed to lie.  He rowed us in to the wharf.

“You ought to be back here by six o’clock.  I’ll leave yer canoe with Pike, all right,—­I know where he hangs out, I guess.  Take a good look round the island, an’ if yer find any of the loot, don’t forget me!”

And then as we started up the wharf he called out: 

“Got any money with yer?  There’ll be hoss-car fares to pay, yer know.”

I felt in my pockets.

“Mine’s on the boat,” I said.

“So’s mine,” said Jimmy.

“And so’s mine,” said Ed Mason.

“That’s all right,” said Mr. Daddles, “I’ve brought some,—­all the change we’ll need.”

We went through the village and crossed the causeway.  It was only a short walk to the end of the car line.  Here was standing an old horse-car.  The car was old, the horse was old, and the man who drove the horse was older still.  He was sitting by the side of the road, and he eyed us suspiciously as we came up.