seen under the overhanging
rock.

"I might as well tell him all about it," thought Leopold. "I can trust
him till the end of the world; and I should like to have some one to
help me bear the burden of the secret."

"What were you digging for, Le?" repeated Stumpy, his curiosity
considerably excited.

"Can you keep a secret, Stumpy?"

"Of course I can till the rocks crumble, and the earth sinks," replied
he, warmly.

Leopold told him the whole story, from the first glimpse he had of
Harvey Barth's diary, down to the finding of the bag of gold.

"I swow!" exclaimed Stumpy, drawing a long breath, when the narrative
was finished. "Twelve hundred in gold!"

"I haven't counted it; but that's what the diary says," replied Leopold.

"You will be as rich as mud, Le. Gold! Then it's worth double that in
paper."

"It don't belong to me," answered Leopold, decidedly.

"It belongs to you as much as it does to any one."

"But I intend to find the owner, or the heirs of the man who buried the
gold."

"I wouldn't leave it here a day longer, if I were you, Le," said
Stumpy. "Somebody else will find it."

This suggestion was considered for some time, and Leopold finally
concluded to dig up the treasure, and conceal it in some safer place. In
a few moments more the shot bag was unearthed, and Stumpy held it in his
hand.

"I swow! Solid gold!" exclaimed he.

"Halveses!" shouted Charley Redmond, suddenly stepping between the
money-diggers.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE FAIR THING.

Leopold immediately began to realize that he had no talent for
concealment; that he was a sad bungler in the management of any business
which was not open and above-board. This impertinent, disagreeable
little coxcomb of a New Yorker, without a warning sound to announce his
coming, had suddenly stepped between him and Stumpy, who held the hidden
treasure in his hand. If there was any person in or about Rockhaven from
whom he would have particularly desired to keep his secret, it was Mr.
Charles Redmond, or any other person like him.

Both Leopold and Stumpy supposed the little New Yorker with the
eye-glass was making himself as agreeable as he could to the young
ladies on the cliffs above. It is true there was an angle in the cliffs
which concealed his approach from the eye, and the soft sand deadened
the sound of footsteps to the ear; but both the money-digger and the
clam-digger would have deemed it impossible for any one to come into