CHAPTER XII
UNCLE AARON REJOICES
"Well," said Fred, drawing a long breath and looking around at hiscompanions after Mr. Lee had left the room, "we've certainly got morethan we expected from this after-dinner talk."
"And we didn't know at the start that we'd get a thing," exulted Teddy.
"It's queer that dad never mentioned the matter to me," mused Lester."Still I was a little chap when it all happened, and the whole thing hasbeen almost forgotten."
"But what's the net result?" asked Bill. "We haven't the least idea yetwhere the treasure really is."
"No," admitted Fred. "We haven't. And yet we've made a long stepforward. In the first place, we know that Ross was absolutely honest andtruthful in all that he said. Then, too, we know from Tom's story thatthe treasure wasn't taken away by the smugglers then, and couldn't havebeen afterwards, since they were all drowned. So we can be sure thatit's still where they left it unless some one else has stumbled on it,which isn't at all likely. Further than that, we know where the manlives who picked up Mr. Montgomery when he was adrift, and there's noknowing what we may be able to get out of him. It seems to me that we'realready far ahead of where we were this morning."
"There's another point too, Fred," broke in Teddy. "Dick told Tom thatthe chest wasn't buried, but was hidden somewhere. That gives us amighty good tip. If we didn't know that, we might waste our time andbreak our backs in digging, when it wouldn't do us a bit of good."
"That's funny, too," remarked Lester. "You'd think that burying wouldhave been the first thing they thought of. In all the stories one readsof pirate hoards, the treasure is buried deep down in the earth."
"And the pirate usually shot the man who dug the hole and left hisskeleton to guard the treasure," said Bill.
"Perhaps Manuel might have done something of the kind, if there hadn'tbeen so many in the crew," said Fred. "He seems from all accounts tohave been more desperate and bloody-minded than the rest."
"We needn't worry our brains as to why it wasn't done," remarked Teddy."The only thing that concerns us is that it was hidden instead ofburied."
"Hidden is a pretty big word," put in skeptical Bill. "It might behidden on a mountain top or in a thicket or in a hollow tree or underwater or in a cave or any other old place. Instead of making the problemeasier, it seems to me it makes it harder."
"I can see Bill getting cross-eyed trying to keep one eye on themountains and the other on the sea," jibed Teddy.
"Bill's all right," assented Fred. "He acts as a brake to hold us incheck and keep us from going ahead too fast."
"I guess we can cut out the mountain top idea," put in Lester, "as therearen't any mountains of any size close to the coast."
"And you must remember, too," chimed in Fred, "that they were in a hurryto get away. Mr. Montgomery was adrift, and they didn't know at justwhat moment he might be picked up. Of course, he was unconscious, but hemight come to his senses at any time and tell his rescuers just what hadhappened. In that case, the fat would be in the fire right away."
"No," said Lester thoughtfully, "whatever was done had to be done in ahurry. It's a dead sure thing that they didn't go far in from thecoast."
"For the same reason, we can dismiss the hollow tree idea," said Teddy."Those things can't be found just when you want them, and they didn'thave time to hunt around for one. Besides it would take a mighty bighollow to hold a chest as big as that."
"We'll consider the other possibilities later," summed up Fred. "For thepresent, the one thing on which I guess we're all agreed is that thechest was hidden somewhere close to the coast."
"There's one thing we fellows must do above everything else,"recommended Lester, "and that is to keep the whole thing absolutelysecret. Even when we go to see Mark, we must put our questions in such away that he'll not have the slightest suspicion of what we're reallyafter. He might set his tongue wagging, and some reporter might get windof it and put it in a local paper. Then it would be copied in others,and the first thing we knew it would be written up for the front page ofthe Sunday edition of a city paper with all sorts of scareheads andpictures. That would put the hoodoo on us for fair. We'd be followed andspied on, and the first thing you know some other party would be findingthe money and Ross wouldn't get a dollar of it.
"Of course, Tom Bixby, if he's still alive, knows something about it,but that was so long ago that he probably only thinks of it once in awhile, and if he should speak of it to any of his mates it would be putdown only as a sailor's yarn.
"Fred, you and Teddy will have to tell your folks, because it's onlyright that your Uncle Aaron, who is so heavy a creditor, should knowabout it, and then, too, he may be able to give us some information thatwill help. But you can give the tip to the folks at home that it is tobe kept strictly among themselves. Dad, of course, won't let on toanybody."
"That reminds me," said Fred, "that we ought to write to Uncle Aaronright away."
"Suppose you fellows do that then, while I'm over in Bartanet,"suggested Lester. "I have to go over there this afternoon to getsupplies. Want to come along, Bill?"
"Sure thing," answered Bill, rising and stretching himself. "I need alittle fresh air and exercise after the big dinner I've just put away."
The Rushton boys, left alone, got out pen and paper and prepared to sendthe momentous news to their family at Oldtown.
Up to now, letters to their Uncle Aaron had been rather hard to write.Sometimes they had been little notes of thanks for presents sent to themat Christmas or on birthdays. Often--much too often--they had beenapologies that their parents had forced them to write for some piece ofmischief that had offended their uncle. He had usually been so crustyand had so obviously resented the fact that they had ever been born tocause him trouble, that they had usually approached the task of writingwith the feeling of martyrs.
This time it was different. Mr. Aaron Rushton, though by no means amiser, was sufficiently fond of money, and took great care to get allthat was rightfully his. Therefore the boys knew that the letter,telling of the bare possibility of getting back such a large sum, wouldbe very welcome.
"I'd like to see his face when he reads it," chuckled Teddy. "By theway, Fred, who shall write it, you or I?"
"You do it," said Fred. "He's always been sorer at you than he has atme, and this will help square you with him. While you're doing that,I'll write a line to mother."
"Think of me writing a letter to him that really pleases him!" laughedTeddy. "It will be the first time in my life."
"We really have an awful lot to thank Uncle Aaron for, although hedidn't think he was doing us a favor," replied his brother. "If ithadn't been for his insisting on it, we wouldn't have gone to RallyHall, we wouldn't have met Bill and Lester, and we wouldn't have had theglorious times we've had so far this summer."
"And you wouldn't have thrashed Andy Shanks," grinned Teddy. "Don'tforget that when you're counting up the advantages."
"It was a satisfaction," grinned Fred. "But go ahead now with thatletter, or we won't get through by the time Bill and Lester come back."
Thus adjured, Teddy set to work. He wrote at first of ordinary matters,keeping the tidbit till the last. When he came to that he wroteexultingly, telling in glowing terms all they had found out and all thatthey hoped to find in the future.
"Don't forget to tell him how Ross and his mother appreciate the wayhe's acted toward them," suggested Fred, himself busy on the letter tohis mother.
"I'm glad you reminded me of that," said Teddy, making the addition. "Iwas so wrapped up in the rest of it that I'd have surely forgottenthat."
At last both letters were finished and stamped ready for mailing.
"There!" remarked Teddy, with a sigh of relief, "I'll wager there'll besome little excitement at home when they read that letter."
"If only we can follow it up with another one later on, telling that wehave actually found the chest of gold!" said Fred.
"If we do, you'll have the pleasure of writi
ng it," declared Teddy."Turn about is fair play."
It was late on the following day when the letters reached the Rushtonhome. The head of the house had not yet returned from his office in thecity, and the only people in the house, besides Martha, the coloredcook, were Mrs. Rushton and Mr. Aaron Rushton.
The latter had been detained at home by an attack of neuralgia, and wasin a bad temper. At his best, he could never be called a congenialcompanion, but when to his naturally surly disposition neuralgia wasadded, he became simply intolerable. Mrs. Rushton's nerves had been wornto a frazzle by having him around, and it was almost with a hystericalfeeling of relief that she pounced upon the letters that Martha broughtin. There were several, but that from Fred was on top.
"A letter from Fred!" she exclaimed delightedly, as she recognized thewriting. "I wonder what the dear boys are doing."
"Doing everybody, probably," said her brother-in-law gloomily."Especially that boy Teddy. He's either in mischief or he's sick."
"Now, Aaron, you oughtn't to talk that way about Teddy," protested Mrs.Rushton, bridling in defence of her offspring. "There are plenty ofworse boys than Teddy in the world."
"Maybe, but I never met them," retorted Aaron Rushton.
"He has a great, big heart," went on Teddy's mother.
"His gall has impressed me more than any other bodily organ he owns,"was the reply. Evidently Mr. Aaron Rushton's temper had a razor edgethat day.
"You forgot how he got back your watch and papers," Mrs. Rushtonindignantly reminded him.
"I don't forget that if it hadn't been for him I wouldn't have lostthem," snapped Aaron. "Who was it that hit the horse with a ball andcaused the runaway that might have cost me my life? Who was it thatpainted Jed Muggs' team red, white and blue on the Fourth of July? Whowas it that nearly caused a panic on the common, when he set those miceloose among the women?"
Mrs. Rushton knew only too well who it was, and she took refuge ingeneralities.
"He's just the dearest boy, anyway," she declared defiantly. "He's fondof mischief like all boys of his age, but he never did a mean ordishonorable thing in his life. And didn't I hear you tell Mr. Barrettonce, just after you got your papers back, that your nephews were thefinest boys in Oldtown?"
"If I did, I must have been out of my mind," growled Aaron, as a twingeof neuralgia made him wince. "But I'll admit that the boys are angels.Heaven forgive me for lying. Go ahead and read your letter."
But Mrs. Rushton had already torn the envelope open and was deep in thereading of its contents.
"Why," she remarked, after a paragraph or two, "Fred says here thatTeddy was writing a letter to you at the same time. I wonder if it'samong these," and she turned over the other letters in her lap. "Oh,here it is, sure enough," she added as she saw Teddy's scrawlingwriting.
Aaron Rushton himself was somewhat startled at the unusual occurrence.
"For me?" he growled, reaching for it. "What has he been doing to me nowthat he has to apologize for?"
"That's not a nice thing to say," protested Mrs. Rushton. "Can't a boywrite to his own uncle without having an apology to make?"
"Not Teddy," said Aaron with conviction.
He took the letter and tore the envelope with studied indifference, toconceal his real curiosity.
The first few paragraphs dealt with ordinary topics, and he passed themover quickly. Then the letter seemed to grip him. He read with everincreasing excitement, while Mrs. Rushton watched him wonderingly. Hefinished it at last and leaped to his feet with an exulting exclamation.
"Eureka!" he shouted. "Those boys are wonders!"