ord with his enthusiastic
claims as a treasure-hunter. That night he had another conference
with Colonel Ward, and the next day he stood beside the hole and
muttered constantly in the confidential retirement of his whiskers.
On the third day he had a murderous look in his eyes every time he
turned them in the direction of Cap'n Sproul. On the night of the
fourth day Hiram detected him hopping softly on bare foot across the
cabin of the _Dobson_ toward the stateroom of Cap'n Sproul. He
carried his unstrapped peg-leg in his hand, holding it as he would
a weapon. Detected, he explained to Hiram with guilty confusion that
he was walking in his sleep. The next night, at his own request, he
was left alone on the island, where he might indulge in the frailty
of somnambulism without danger to any one.

Colonel Ward, having missed his usual private conference with Mr.
Bodge that night, and betraying a certain uneasiness on that account,
gobbled a hurried breakfast, took the dingy, and went ashore alone.

Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look, stepping from the yawl upon the beach
a half-hour later, saw the Colonel's gaunt frame outlined against
the morning sun. He was leaning over the hole, hands on his knees,
and appeared to be very intently engaged.

"There's something underhanded going on here, and I propose to find
out what it is," growled the Cap'n.

"Noticed it, have you?" inquired Hiram, cheerfully.

"I notice some things that I don't talk a whole lot about."

"I'm glad you have," went on Hiram, serenely overlooking a possible
taunt regarding his own reticence. "It's a part of the plot, and plot
aforesaid is now ripe enough to be picked. Or, to put it another way,
I figger that the esteemed relative has bit and has swallered the
hook."

"Ain't it about time I got let in on this?" demanded the Cap'n, with
heat.

With an air as though about to impart a vital secret, Hiram grasped
the Cap'n's arm and whispered: "I'll tell you just what you've got
to do to make the thing go. You say 'Yes' when I tell you to."

Then he hurried up the hill, Cap'n Sproul puffing at his heels and
revolving venomous thoughts.

It was a deep hole and a gloomy hole, but when the two arrived at
the edge they could see Mr. Bodge at the bottom. His peg-leg was
unstrapped, and he held it clutched in both hands and brandished it
at them the moment their heads appeared over the edge.

"And there you be, you robber!" he squalled. "You would pick cents