he sound of his deep voice ceased, we three were silent also, gazing
longingly into his eyes that were so like the sea.

Then--"Captain Pegg," said Angel, in a still, small voice, "I
don't--s'pose--you'd know of any hidden treasure hereabouts? We'd most
awfully like to find some. It'd be a jolly thing to write and tell father!"

A droll smile flickered over the bronzed features of Captain Pegg. He
brought down his fist on the window-sill.

"Well, if you aren't chaps after my own heart!" he cried. "Treasure about
here? I was just coming to that--and a most curious happening it is! There
was a cabin-boy--name of Jenks--a lad that I trusted and loved like my own
son, who stole the greater part of my share of the treasure, and, though I
scoured the globe for him--" the Captain's eyes rolled fiercely--"I found
neither trace of him nor the treasure, till two years ago. It was in
Madagascar that I received a message from a dying man, confessing that,
shaken by remorse, he had brought what was left of the plunder and buried
it in Mrs. Handsomebody's back yard!"

"Mrs. Handsomebody's back yard!" We chanted the words in utter amazement.

"Just that," affirmed Captain Pegg solemnly. "Jenks found out that I owned
the house next door but he dared not bury the treasure there because the
yard was smoothly sodded, and would show up any disturbance; while Mrs.
Handsomebody's yard, being covered with planks, was just the thing. So he
simply raised one of the planks, dug a hole, and deposited the sack
containing the last of the treasure, and wrote me his confession. And there
you are!"

He smiled benignly on us. I longed to hug him.

The March wind swooped and whistled down the alley, and the starling gave
little sharp twittering noises and cocked his head.

"When, oh when--" we burst out--"tonight? May we search for it tonight,
Captain Pegg?"

He reflected. "No-o. Not tonight. Jenks, you see, sent me a plan of the
yard with a cross to mark where the treasure lies, and I'll have to hunt it
up so as not to waste our time turning up the whole yard. But tomorrow
night--yes, tomorrow at midnight we'll start the search!"

V

At dinner that day the rice pudding had the flavor of ambrosia. By
nightfall preparations were already on foot.

Firstly the shovel had been smuggled from the coal cellar and secreted in a
corner of the yard behind the ash barrel together with an iron crowbar to
use as a lever and an empty sack to aid in the