u read on."

"'Tis all a great lot of figures," said Parson Jones, "without a
grain of meaning in them so far as I can see, unless they be sailing
directions." And then he began reading again: "'Mark--S. S. W. by S. 40,
72, 91, 130, 151, 177, 202, 232, 256, 271'--d'ye see, it must be sailing
directions--'299, 335, 362, 386, 415, 446, 469, 491, 522, 544, 571,
598'--what a lot of them there be '626, 652, 676, 695, 724, 851, 876,
905, 940, 967. Peg. S. E. by E. 269 foot. Peg. S. S. W. by S. 427 foot.
Peg. Dig to the west of this six foot.'"

"What's that about a peg?" exclaimed Tom. "What's that about a peg? And
then there's something about digging, too!" It was as though a sudden
light began shining into his brain. He felt himself growing quickly very
excited. "Read that over again, sir," he cried. "Why, sir, you remember
I told you they drove a peg into the sand. And don't they say to dig
close to it? Read it over again, sir--read it over again!"

"Peg?" said the good gentleman. "To be sure it was about a peg. Let's
look again. Yes, here it is. 'Peg S. E. by E. 269 foot.'"

"Aye!" cried out Tom Chist again, in great excitement. "Don't you
remember what I told you, sir, 269 foot? Sure that must be what I saw
'em measuring with the line."

Parson Jones had now caught the flame of excitement that was blazing up
so strongly in Tom's breast. He felt as though some wonderful thing was
about to happen to them. "To be sure, to be sure!" he called out, in a
great big voice. "And then they measured out 427 foot south-southwest by
south, and they then drove another peg, and then they buried the box
six foot to the west of it. Why, Tom--why, Tom Chist! if we've read this
aright, thy fortune is made."

Tom Chist stood staring straight at the old gentleman's excited face,
and seeing nothing but it in all the bright infinity of sunshine. Were
they, indeed, about to find the treasure chest? He felt the sun very hot
upon his shoulders, and he heard the harsh, insistent jarring of a tern
that hovered and circled with forked tail and sharp white wings in the
sunlight just above their heads; but all the time he stood staring into
the good old gentleman's face.

It was Parson Jones who first spoke. "But what do all these figures
mean?" And Tom observed how the paper shook and rustled in the tremor of
excitement that shook his hand. He raised the paper to the focus of his
spectacles and began to read again. "'Mark 40, 72, 91--'"

"Ma