m that night, the boy promising to
protect him from anything in the shape of a ghost that might cross
their path. He kept his appointment this time, but he was sorry
enough for it afterward, for the first object on which his eyes
rested, when he and his companion reached the potato-field, was old
Jordan, digging away as if he too were in search of the buried
treasure. Godfrey would have taken to his heels at once, but
Clarence, who did not believe in "haunts," walked up and seized the
negro by the arm. After much argument, Godfrey was induced to do the
same, and then his fears all vanished, for it was a veritable human
being that he took hold of and not a spirit, as he feared it was. He
declared, too, that the interloper was the missing Jordan, beyond a
doubt, and that he had come there to steal the money he had buried in
that same field years before. The negro was commanded to point out
the spot where the treasure was hidden, but nothing could be learned
from the old fellow. He would not speak at all, until Godfrey
threatened to punch him in the ribs with his shovel, and then he
denied all knowledge of the barrel. Upon hearing this, Clarence and
his companion seized him by the arms, dragged him across the field,
over the fence and down the road to Godfrey's potato-cellar, where he
was tied to a stanchion with a plough-line and left with the
assurance that he should never see daylight again until he told where
the fortune was to be found.

Godfrey was stirring the next morning before it was fairly light, and
the first sound that fell on his ears caused him to start and tremble
with terror. He listened until it was repeated, and then started post
haste for General Gordon's house. When he reached it, he found the
whole plantation in an uproar. Don was missing and a search was being
instituted. Clarence came out about this time, and Godfrey told him a
most astounding piece of news. It wasn't old Jordan at all whom they
had captured the night before, it was Don Gordon. Godfrey was sure of
it, for he had heard him whistle as nobody in the world except Don
Gordon could whistle. As soon as Clarence recovered from his
amazement and terror, he mounted Don's pony and set out for the
potato-cellar to see for himself. When he reached it, he found that
the prisoner had already been liberated by somebody (it was Bert, who
was guided to his place of confinement by Don's loud and continued
whistling) and was no doubt on the way home b