e barrel was two thirds full of water it
had to be rolled carefully, to avoid upsetting or spilling. It was no
easy task for the two boys.

"Hen, you might come and help us a minute," Dick proposed.

"Whatcher take me for?" Dutcher grumbled. Whereat Tom Reade glanced
grimly up from his book to remark:

"Son, when you're spoken to, say 'yes, sir,' and hustle!"

Something in Tom's look induced Hen to move rather promptly. The three
boys succeeded in moving the barrel a couple of feet toward the spot
desired.

"Hullo," muttered Dick, halting and glancing down at the ground where
the barrel had stood since their arrival. "Look at that stone."

The stone lay partly imbedded in the dirt flooring of the cabin. It was
a flat, nearly round stone, some fifteen inches in diameter.

"That stone looks like a lid, doesn't it?" Dick asked.

"Cover to a gold mine," sneered Hen.

Dick did not answer, but stepped over, bent and began to pry at the
edges of the stone. It did not move easily. Dan brought the crowbar and
quietly handed it to his chum.

"What have you got?" demanded Tom, glancing up from his book.

"Don't know yet," Dick laughed.

By the aid of the crowbar Dick pried the stone loose from its setting in
the ground.

"There's a hole underneath, anyway," announced Dick.
"And--Geewhillikins! Fellows, drop everything but your good names, and
come here--quick! Hustle!"

CHAPTER XVI

KEEN ON THE TRAIL OF THE PUZZLE

Breathless with excitement, Dick crouched over the hole in the dirt
floor, unwilling to make a move until the other fellows had joined him.
That didn't take long.

Hen Dutcher was one of the first to get a glimpse at what had filled
Prescott with so much excitement.

"Gracious! It must be Captain Kidd's treasure!" gasped Hen.

"Guess again," replied Tom Reade. "A pirate would be doing a poor
business who didn't get a bigger lot of loot than that together."

"But this is a valuable lot of stuff," argued Harry Hazelton, as he took
a look.

"I wonder who could have buried it here?" demanded Dan.

"I think I know," nodded Dick. "Now, then, stand back a little and I'll
take the stuff out."

The first thing that Prescott drew out of the hole was a paper parcel.
This he unwrapped, then gave a whoop of joy.

"The fan I bought mother for Christmas!" he almost shouted.

Something yellowish glinted and caught his eye down in the hole. Dick
fished the object out.

"Who's is this?" he queri