IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT

About two o’clock in the morning Pee-wee awoke and was conscious of the sound outside the house; a low, steady sound, as if someone might be tossing earth over. For a few moments he was puzzled as to what it was, then he decided that it sounded like digging.

He arose, crept to the window and looked out. In the grove at the edge of the lawn was a dark figure. It was moving up and down. As Pee-wee stared he could see a bright gleam now and then—the gleam of a shovel. While he looked the figure ceased, and Pee-wee trembled. Then the figure crept toward the house, paused as if listening, then returned to its work in the grove.

This was a strange business to be prosecuted with such apparent stealth in the dead of night. It was not so bad for a slow, dull, poky place like Skimper’s. It seemed very much like Captain Kidd down there. Perhaps someone was burying a murdered victim. Pee-wee was much agitated and very curious. Again the figure crept toward the house as if to make certain that all was still there. Something of a very sinister nature was evidently going on.

Pee-wee tiptoed across the hall to the room of his friends and tapped on the door. They did not hear and he crept in.

“Get up,” he whispered, shaking the slumbering Fuller; “get up, there’s a dark figure digging in the grove and he’s doing it in secret. Come and see for yourself. Gee whiz, something serious is happening. Come and look for yourselves.”

“You’re seeing things,” Ray said drowsily.

“All right, you come and see,” Pee-wee said.

They followed him to his window and looked out.

“He’s digging for bait,” whispered Ray.

“What makes him so afraid then?” Pee-wee whispered.

“Guess you’re right, Scout,” whispered Fuller.

“Let’s sneak down; what do you say? Looks as if there might be something doing on the old plantation, huh?”

Pee-wee felt a little ashamed. Here, sure enough, was something in the nature of an adventure, and he suffered a little touch of remorse that he had thought and hinted about returning to the farm. He could not help admiring these two young fellows for their cheery habit of taking everything as it came. It made him feel just a little silly that he had dreamed of going miles away to some outlandish, unpeopled spot, in quest of adventure. Perhaps these two young fellows were not so crazy after all....

“Just the thing, huh?” whispered Fuller.

“Looks pretty good to me,” whispered Ray.

One would have thought they were inspecting something with a view to buying it.

“May turn out to be a sort of job lot adventure after all, Ray,” said Fuller. “I haven’t had much experience in pirate stuff. Maybe he’s burying the fortune that he squeezed out of summer boarders.”

“What do you mean, job lot adventure?” Pee-wee demanded. “It’s a real adventure. Don’t you know a mystery when you see one? Adventures—they can happen anywhere.”

“Too bad you have to go home in the morning,” whispered Ray.

“Are we going to solve it?” Pee-wee demanded darkly. “Are we going to foil him?”

“Shall we foil him, Ray?” queried Fuller.

“It’s up to you, Fuller,” said Ray.

“Well then, I tell you what we’ll do,” Fuller said, as they left the window. “We’ll get dressed—”

“Good idea,” said Ray.

“And I’ll stroll down and ask him what he’s doing, and you come along while I’m talking to him. Scout, you’d better go back to bed so you can make an early start in the morning.”

“A—eh—a—what d’you mean—a scout is supposed to be helpful,” stammered Pee-wee.

“I know,” said Ray, “but this is only a thirty-one cent adventure. It’s really too cheap for you, Scout.”

“A scout—a scout—he’s supposed to be thrifty,” Pee-wee breathed excitedly; “he’s supposed to be economical. Thirty-one cent adventures are all right. What—what’s the use of wasting money?”

“He may be right at that,” said Ray reasonably.

“Oh, absolutely,” said Fuller.