this startling announcement was accompanied by such strange contortions on the part of the negro who made it, that dan was completely unnerved, and would have taken to his heels in short order, had he not suddenly lost all control over himself. his whole body seemed weighed down with iron. he did, however, manage to turn his head and look in the direction in which his sable companions were gazing, and sure enough, there he was—an old, rheumatic negro, bent half double with age, and dressed in that peculiar costume so common among field negroes before the war. he leaned heavily upon a staff—which, however, he planted firmly, almost viciously on the ground with every step, as if there was plenty of strength left in his old arm—and walked in that indescribable manner which no one ever saw attempted by anybody except a plantation negro.

[pg 177]when first seen he was in the middle of the lane; and how he ever got there without being observed, was a mystery. he was coming toward the barn, and when he arrived opposite to it he turned toward the open doors, and dan and the terrified negroes backed hastily out of his way. he looked neither to the right nor left, but entered the barn, went the whole length of it, and disappeared through the door at the other end.

“that’s ole jordan, if i ever seed him,” exclaimed one of the negroes, all of whom turned as white as their black skins would let them.

“no, sar; ’tain’t ole jordan, nudder—dat ain’t,” said another; “kase ole jordan, if it was him, wouldn’t go right fru us dat way, widout speakin’ to nobody. whar’s he gwine now?”

the negro, as he asked this question, started on tiptoe toward the back door, followed by his companions and dan. arriving on the spot where the figure had last been seen, they looked in every direction, but could see nothing of it. gathering a little more courage, they went to the end of the corn-crib and looked around it. there was no one in sight. after that they went around the barn, keeping close together for mutual protection, but old jordan had[pg 178] disappeared as completely as though he had never been in existence. then the negroes began to grow frightened again. the hostler declared that he would never go into that barn again; those who had been at work in the field retreated in great haste toward the house; and dan, who dared not stay there alone, shouldered his rifle, got over the tall gate somehow, and stepped out for home at his very best pace.

this was the substance of the story dan told his father, and godfrey listened to it with open mouth and staring eyes. he knew that ghosts appeared at night—nobody could talk or laugh him out of that belief, for he knew it to be true by his own experience—but he had never before heard that they grew so bold as to show themselves in broad daylight. “this yere beats my time all holler,” said he, as he found his tongue. “i declar’, folks ain’t safe nowhar, an’ at no time, day nor night. dannie, that thar bar’l is in that tater-patch as sure’s you’re an inch high; kase if it ain’t, what makes ole jordan’s haunt come back here foolin’ around? he didn’t act as though he wanted to hurt anybody, did he?”

“no, but he had a big club in his hand,” said[pg 179] dan, whose frightened optics had magnified an ordinary walking-stick, just as they had cheated their owner into believing that the apparition, or whatever it was, had an eye of fire in the middle of his forehead.

“what sort of a club was it?” asked his father.

“o, a great big one! an’ it was all curled and twisted up like a snake.”

“i’ve seed ole jordan walkin’ with it a million times,” said godfrey. “he used it this yere way, didn’t he?” he added, picking up a stick, that happened to be lying near him, and imitating the energetic manner in which the old negro handled his cane.

“that’s jest the way he done,” said dan.

“an’ he walked this way, didn’t he?” continued godfrey, bending his back and legs, drawing his head down between his shoulders and mimicking old jordan’s style of progression.

“yes; that’s jest the way he walked.”

“then it’s his haunt, an’ thar ain’t no mistake about it,” said godfrey, throwing down the stick and pushing back his sleeves. “jest fetch out my rifle, dannie.”

“o, pop, what be ye goin’ to do?” gasped dan.

[pg 180]“i’m goin up thar,” was the reply; and any one who had seen godfrey when he made it, never would have imagined that only a few short hours before he had been so badly frightened, that he could not run half fast enough to suit him. he looked brave enough to meet a lion single-handed. “i want to see that thing,” he continued, “an’ i want to see it in the daytime, too—not arter dark, as i did afore!”

“wal, now, i ain’t agoin’ to stay here alone, i bet ye,” whined dan.

“then come along with yer pop.”

“no, i won’t.”

“ye needn’t be afeared; kase i’ve heard tell that them haunts can’t harm nobody in the daytime. ye see, if it’s ole jordan’s haunt, his comin’ back here proves that we’ve dug a hole purty clost to that thar bar’l; an’ if mr.—— hum! bring out my we’pon, dannie.”

godfrey was about to add that if mr. clarence, after hearing of what had just taken place, was not afraid to continue the search for the buried treasure, he (godfrey) was not afraid either; but remembering that dan was to be kept in ignorance of the arrangements he had made with the general’s nephew, he checked himself in time, and again desired the boy[pg 181] to bring out his rifle. godfrey did not intend to shoot at old jordan’s apparition if he saw it. he only wanted to take the weapon with him because he felt safer while it was in his hands. he loaded it very carefully when his son brought it out, and placing it on his shoulder started off, dan keeping close by his side.

godfrey was by no means as much at his ease as he seemed to be, and had it been after sunset, he could not have been hired to venture near the general’s lane after what he had heard. he considered that he was about to do a very reckless thing, but he kept resolutely on, and finally reached the barn. the wide doors that gave entrance into the lane stood open, but the building was deserted by all living things save the horses and a few chickens, and an unearthly silence seemed to brood over it. godfrey dared not enter. he walked up close to the threshold, and stretching out his long neck, peeped into every corner. while he was thus engaged, a smothered exclamation from dan caused him to straighten up as suddenly as if he had been shot.

“laws a massy!” cried dan. “thar he is agin!”

“o, my soul!” ejaculated godfrey, shivering all over.

[pg 182]he looked around, and saw the object of his search coming down the lane toward the barn. just one look was enough for godfrey, and in that one look he took in everything about the apparition; for such he believed it to be. he remembered old jordan so well that he would have recognised him on the instant if he had seen him in asia. here he was now before his very eyes. there could be no mistake about it. the peculiar style of progression, the clothes, the manner in which he handled his cane, and the whole appearance of the approaching object, all proclaimed that it could be none other than the missing jordan. godfrey did not wait for him to come any nearer. quickly shouldering his rifle he darted through the barn, out at the back door, and ran for his life, paying no heed to the frantic appeals to “wait a minute,” which the terrified dan shouted after him. he made his way across the general’s grounds to the lake, the shore of which he followed until he came to the woods; and there he sat down on a log to recover his breath, and to wait for dan.

the latter came at last, and his first act was to take his father to task for deserting him in so cowardly a manner. godfrey had nothing to say in reply. forgetting that the boy had been just as anxious[pg 183] as himself to get safely out of sight of the apparition, he asked a good many questions, hoping to learn what old jordan had done, where he had gone, and whether or not he had said anything; but on these points dan could give him no information. the two went home together, and passed the remainder of the day in a state of mind that can hardly be described. when night came godfrey did not sit on his bench as usual; he stayed in the house, never once giving a thought to clarence gordon, who was waiting for him at his uncle’s barn. he kept a bright blaze in the fire-place, so that the interior might be lighted up as much as possible. when he got ready to go to bed he took pains to fasten the door securely—and that was a thing he had never been known to do before—and to place his rifle close by the head of the “shake-down,” so that it could be readily seized in case of emergency.

the next morning he ate but little breakfast, and seemed to be greatly relieved when he could sit on the bench with his pipe. he smoked and meditated for two hours (during this time all the members of his family had gone off about their usual vocations—mrs. evans to work at the house of a neighbor, david to the fields to continue the education of the[pg 184] pointer, and dan to the woods, to spend the day in shooting squirrels and making a pretence of building turkey-traps)—and was then aroused by the appearance of clarence gordon, who was the very person he most wished to see. the boy carried his rifle in the hollow of his arm, and, as before, stopped near the cabin to bring a squirrel out of one of the tall trees growing by the roadside. godfrey hastened to meet him, and was greeted with:

“you’re a nice fellow to keep a promise, are you not?”

“mr. clarence, have they heard of it up to the gordons?” asked godfrey, almost in a whisper.

“there’s an awful row up there among the negroes about a ghost, or some such nonsense, if that’s what you mean,” answered clarence. “there isn’t a black man or woman on the plantation that can be hired to go near the barn, and my uncle is afraid all his hands are going to leave him to gather his crops as best he can. but, of course, that wasn’t what kept you away last night.”

“i reckon it was jest that very thing,” said godfrey.

“then you’re a coward and ought to be heartily ashamed of yourself. that’s my opinion of you!”

[pg 185]godfrey jumped up and knocked his heels together, coming down with his feet spread out and his fists doubled up, as he always did when he was angry and about to say something very emphatic. but when he had done this much he stopped short, for he saw that he had not frightened the boy in the least. he had only surprised him. clarence had never before seen a backwoods fighter limber up his joints previous to going into action.

“well, what do you mean by that?” he asked, coolly.

godfrey did not think it best to say that he had been getting ready to punish the boy for calling him a coward, so he replied:

“if you had seed it yourself, mr. clarence, what would you say?”

“do you mean that thing you call a haunt? i never saw one, and there are none.”

“i know better; kase thar is,” said godfrey, earnestly. “i seed it myself with my own two eyes in broad daylight, an’ so did dannie an’ three or four of the gen’ral’s niggers.”

“well, it is very strange that no one else could see it,” said clarence. “my aunt wanted to take marsh and me out riding yesterday afternoon, but[pg 186] the hostler wouldn’t hitch up because he was afraid to go near the barn; so uncle, and don, and bert, and i went out there and searched high and low for the thing that had frightened him, and could find nothing.”

“in course you couldn’t, kase it’s a haunt. nobody can’t see ’em, ’ceptin’ when they wants to be seed.”

“nonsense!” exclaimed clarence. “i didn’t suppose there was a man in this day and age of the world who would talk as you do. did you see any thing yesterday?”

“yes, sar, i did.”

“you saw it yourself, did you?”

“yes, i done seed it my own self.”

“what did it look like?”

“it looked jest as ole jordan did the last time i seed him, afore he run away with the yanks.”

“then you can safely bet it was he—not his ‘haunt,’ as you call it, but he, himself, in his own proper person. if you had taken hold of him you would have found solid bone and muscle in your hands.”

“no, i wouldn’t,” said godfrey, solemnly. “i had my rifle in my hands, an’ if i had drawed a bead[pg 187] on him, the bullet would have gone through him as slick as grease, an’ never hurt him.”

clarence stamped his foot impatiently. “it is well you didn’t try it,” said he. “if you had, you would now be in jail with a good chance of being tried for a very serious offence.”

“do you reckon it was ole jordan hisself?” asked godfrey, who seemed to be impressed by the boy’s arguments.

“i know it was,” said clarence.

“we all thought he was dead.”

“well, it’s no uncommon thing for people to be mistaken, is it? if he were dead how could he come back here?”

“what do you reckon he’s come back for?”

“you tell?”

“an’ if it was him, his own self, what was the reason he didn’t speak to nobody? he knowed two of the niggers that was thar, an’ he knowed me. ’tain’t likely he’d ’member dannie, kase the boy was too leetle when he went away.”

“answer the question yourself,” replied clarence. “you are as good at guessing as i am.”

“wal, if it’s him, his own self, i wish he hadn’t come back,” said godfrey.

[pg 188]“i don’t, for i intend to make use of him. the old fellow is not above earning a dime or two, is he?”

“i never yet seed the man that was, black or white,” said godfrey.

“then i shall make it my business to scrape an acquaintance with the old fellow, if i can find him, and ask him if he’d like to make a thousand dollars. he’ll say ‘yes,’ of course; and then i’ll tell him that all he has got to do to have the money paid right over to him, is to show me where he hid that barrel before he ran away with the yankees.”

godfrey backed toward the bench and looked at clarence without speaking.

“if he will do it—and i know i should if i were in his place—i shall be glad he has come back,” continued clarence. “i took a good look at that potato-patch yesterday, and i tell you there’s a lot of ground in it. it will take us till doomsday to dig it full of holes four or five feet deep, and i can’t wait so long. i need the money now—to-day!”

godfrey looked at clarence from head to foot, taking in at a glance all the fashionable and expensive trappings he had about him, both useful and ornamental, and wondered why he should be so much in need of money. if he had possessed the cash[pg 189] value of the boy’s gold watch and chain he would have been very well contented, and would have thought no more about the barrel and its contents while he had ten dollars of it remaining.

“now, don’t you suppose that if you were to hang around uncle’s barn for a while, you could gain an interview with old jordan?” asked clarence.

“no, sar,” answered godfrey, hastily. “i wouldn’t see him again fur no money. an’ right here’s one thing that mebbe ye didn’t think of: wouldn’t he be an ole fule to go an’ show ye whar that thar bar’l is, an’ get only a thousand dollars fur it, when he could go and dig it up by hisself an’ take it all—the hul eighty thousand?”

“i have thought of that,” said clarence, “and have made up my mind what i shall do in case he refuses to help me. mark my words: if i get my hands on that old nigger, i’ll find out where that barrel is, if he knows.”

this was all clarence would say on this point just then. his companion tried hard to make him explain himself, but all clarence would say was, that he had a way of finding out things he wanted to know, and with that godfrey was obliged to be content. before separating they made another agreement,[pg 190] which was that they would meet that night, as soon as it was fairly dark, at the summer-house on the shore of the lake. godfrey appointed the place of meeting himself, saying that he would not go near the general’s barn again if he had an army at his back. he promised, moreover, to meet clarence there every night, and to faithfully assist him in prosecuting the search until the barrel was found. if clarence succeeded in obtaining an interview with the old negro and finding out where the eighty thousand dollars were hidden, so much the better; but that was a matter with which godfrey himself would have nothing to do.

that was another long day to godfrey. when he had leisure to calmly think over the promise he had made, he wondered how he had dared do it; and as the afternoon waned and the hour appointed for the meeting at the summer-house drew nearer, he became really alarmed, and was several times on the point of making up his mind that he would stay at home. but he did not stay at home. he went, agreeably to promise, and for half an hour sat in the summer-house starting at the rustle of every leaf and holding himself in readiness to take to his heels at the first sight of anything that might look like old jordan’s[pg 191] white coat. when at last clarence arrived, he was so overjoyed to see him, that he seized his hand and shook it until the boy forcibly withdrew it from his grasp.

“i couldn’t get away any sooner,” said clarence. “we were having some music up there.”

“did they say anything about the haunt?” asked godfrey.

“no, they didn’t say anything about that, for they have sense enough to know that there is no such thing in the world,” said clarence, impatiently. “they talked about old jordan, and uncle seems to think he has come back; but he says it is very strange that the old fellow doesn’t show himself about the house.”

“say, mr. clarence,” said godfrey, suddenly; “mebbe he’s come back on purpose to dig up the bar’l hisself!”

“i thought of that,” replied the boy. “but if that was his object, he wouldn’t be so foolish as to show himself to anybody. he has kept out of my way so far. don and i have been about the barn all the afternoon watching for him. if i once get my eyes on him i’ll see what he’s made of, unless he shows that he can run faster than i can.”

[pg 192]“what does mr. don think about it?”

“o, he’s like the rest. he don’t know what to think about it.”

“did he ever say anything to ye about the bar’l?”

“yes; he said just enough to make me think that the barrel is there. i pumped him to-day, and he said in so many words that jordan hid a barrel of stuff somewhere, and hinted that none of the family ever dug it up. i heard enough to make me determined to go ahead, even if i have to dig up the whole of that potato-patch by myself. if you are ready we’ll go. i have placed a couple of shovels where i can find them.”

so saying clarence led the way toward the potato-patch, and godfrey tremblingly followed. the shovels were found, and the two, after walking a short distance along the fence that separated the garden from the potato-patch, were about to climb over into the field where their operations were to be conducted, when godfrey suddenly laid his hand on his companion’s arm.

“laws a massy! what’s that, mr. clarence?” said he, in a suppressed whisper.

“what’s what?” demanded the boy, who, in spite[pg 193] of his boasted courage, shivered as if he had been unexpectedly plunged into a bath of ice-water.

“hark a minute!” said godfrey. “don’t ye hear it now?”

clarence held his breath and listened intently.