CHAPTER XXIV.
TREASURE HUNTING.
"Hey, you Garibaldi!"
"Ay, ay! Alla righta!"
"Coast clear?"
"Beta your lifa!"
"Come on, then, fellers," said Barney, the bootblack. "If it's allright outside, we may just as well moosy along."
And the iron door of the old tomb set in the wall on the Trinitychurch-yard opened and closed with a bang--three "Bats in the Wall"stood upon the street.
They were our old acquaintances, Barney the bootblack and Sandy, thethird being none other than Frank Mansfield himself.
Instantly a fourth lad came running across New Church street and joinedthem.
It proved to be Garibaldi, the Italian bat, who had been sent out ofthe wall to reconnoiter and report whether or no the coast was clear.
Evidently the "Bats" are bound upon some expedition, for Barney carriesa spade, to conceal the true character of which a faint attempt hasbeen made by winding newspapers about its blade; Sandy a similarpackage, while Frank Mansfield has under his arm that which greatlyresembles a pick ax, tied up in a similar way.
To all outward appearance our hero stands upon a social level withhis companions, and looks as little like Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Callister'snew clerk, as that individual looks like the young man who was onceassistant cashier of the Webster National Bank.
One day has elapsed since the visit of Frank to Miss Edna Callisterat the house in Cottage Place, upon which occasion, the readerwill remember, the missing parchment containing the secret of thehiding-place of the treasure buried by his grandfather was strangelyplaced in his hands.
Upon further examination, the parchment placed by the mysterious womanupon the window-sill proved to be the document named in the will ofJeremiah Mansfield.
Bidding farewell to the faithful girl--not, however, without havingpromised to see her again at the very first opportunity affordedhim--Frank hurried to the Police Headquarters, where at this hour inthe evening it sometimes happened that Detective Hook could be found.
The parchment, which he studied carefully, gave the most minuteinstructions as to where the buried treasure could be found.
With his soul filled with triumph, Frank hurried through the broadcorridors of the Mulberry street building and entered the office whereMr. Hook was usually to be found when not engaged on duty elsewhere.
He was all eagerness to tell of his discovery and ask what, under thecircumstances, had best be done.
But Frank was doomed to disappointment.
Caleb Hook had not been seen at headquarters since the night before.
Nor did he appear next day.
Frank, employing the messenger boys of the district telegraph freely,was unable to find the slightest trace of his whereabouts.
Mr. Callister was at his office as usual, and appeared more sleek andurbane than ever before.
He made no reference to the little affair at the elevator, treating thedisguised Mr. Maxwell with even more politeness and consideration thanwas ordinarily the case.
Considerably alarmed by the unexplained absence of DetectiveHook--doubly so from the fact that he had neglected several mostimportant engagements that day--Frank resolved to confide the situationin part to Barney the Bootblack, and assisted by the Bats, whom he hadlearned to trust fully as the rough but honest lads that they were, toinvestigate the truth of the statements contained in the parchment forhimself.
After the close of the day's business, therefore, he paid a visit tothe vault and arranged to start upon their expedition that very night.
Thus it happened that we find the "Bats" leaving the wall in the mannerdescribed just as the clock of old Trinity rings out the hour of twelve.
"Now, then, where's de place?" asked Barney, as the four boys hurriedalong New Church street in the direction of the Rector street stationof the Sixth avenue elevated road.
"It's at Fort Washington," replied Frank--"a good mile beyond the 155thstreet station. Up the steps, boys, and we'll start at once. Remember,Barney, if I succeed in this undertaking and in clearing my name beforethe world the 'Bats in the Wall' will never have occasion to regrettheir kindness to me."
An hour later the little party moving along the Fort Washington roadmight have been seen to steal quietly through the gateway leading up tothe half ruined mansion once the home of old Jeremiah Mansfield, knownas the Three Oaks.
The night was cold and cheerless--the wind sighed mournfully among thetrees of the park-like inclosure--not a star was to be seen in theclouded sky.
Pursuing their way up the avenue, the boys came suddenly upon the houseitself, standing half ruined and deserted among the overshadowing trees.
It was not without feelings of emotion that Frank Mansfield gazed uponit.
Many and many were the pleasant hours spent within the old mansionduring the more prosperous days of his boyhood--days not to beforgotten so long as he lived.
And if that prosperity could be but in a measure restored? If the nameof his dead father, to say nothing of his own, could but be clearedbefore the world?
The finding of this money would place a powerful weapon against theenemies surrounding him at once in his hands.
No wonder that his soul burned with impatience to grasp it. Thathe ought not to have moved in the matter without first consultingDetective Hook he instinctively felt, and yet----
But the impatience of youth is proverbial--than that no more need besaid.
Familiar with the premises from boyhood, Frank, making no effort toenter the house by the regular way, and conducting his companions tothe rear of the building, removed without difficulty a small windowsash set in the wall close to the ground.
A moment later the four boys stood in the great cellar beneath ThreeOaks, gazing about them by the light of a lantern which he carried inhis hand.
It was festooned with cobwebs and green with mold. The floor waslittered with boxes, old barrels, and rubbish of every sort.
Frank, setting the lantern upon a box, turned to Sandy and Garibaldi,who, not having been informed as to the nature of the undertakingin which they had engaged, were looking about them in a decidedlymystified way.
Barney he had taken into confidence, leaving him to tell the other"bats" what he pleased.
Having now reached the scene of their labors, however, it seemednecessary to make some explanation to these boys, who had comewillingly with Barney to help him, and he accordingly briefly informedthem of what he was about to do.
The eyes of the two boys open wildly.
"What! diga for golda?" exclaimed Garibaldi, in surprise.
"That's the size of it, boys, and it belongs to me by rights. How, itwould take too long to explain; but help me out, and I promise that youshall have your share."
"You beta we willa!" cried the little Italian, throwing aside hisjacket and seizing one of the spades. "Showa whera diga, I finda him,donta forget it."
Sandy likewise gave full assent.
"Then listen, boys," said Frank, pulling a paper from his pocket, andholding it up to the lantern on the box--it was a copy of a portion ofthe contents of the parchment--"this will tell us what to do."
He read as follows:
"Descend to the cellar. Measure ten feet from the north chimney, then five due west. Here a flat stone will be found, beneath which the treasure lies. It is for my grandson if he be found worthy, for my friend, Elijah Callister, if he is not. If it shall fall into the hands of Frank Mansfield, let him so dispose of it as to shed luster upon the name he bears.
"JEREMIAH MANSFIELD.
"THREE OAKS, January 1, 1879."
"Now for it, boys!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "This is the cellar, andwe are here ready to work. Barney, the tape-line. Lay over to thatchimney, now, while I run out ten feet."
The distance was measured off and marked upon the cellar floor.
"Now, then, five feet to the west. That's the idea! By gracious! here'sthe f
lat stone just as the paper says!"
It was as Frank had said.
Buried in the earth which composed the cellar floor a flat stone of agrayish color was discovered, above which all now stood.
"The spades, Barney and Sandy!" cried Frank, seizing the pick-axhimself. "Hold the light, Garibaldi, that we may see what we are about.Make what noise you like, boys, there's no one to hear us--this househas been deserted for years."
He struck the ground with the pick-ax as he spoke, the sound echoingupon the rafters of the floor above.
The earth once loosened, Barney and Sandy made short work of it withtheir spades.
It was of a light and sandy character, and yielded so readily to theirefforts that Frank, finding the pick-ax useless, soon threw it to oneside, and taking the spade from the hands of Sandy, joined Barney inthe hole, now rapidly deepening.
Both boys had removed their coats, and were working with a will.
Around them the little mound of earth thrown out by their spadessteadily grew, until a depth of four feet or more was reached.
And yet, they had found nothing. Nor was there any appearance that theearth had been ever disturbed.
"By thunder, but this is tough work!" growled Barney, straighteninghimself up. "How much further do you think we've got to go?"
"It is impossible to tell," answered Frank, working away vigorously."It may be one foot, it may be ten---- By gracious! here's somethingnow. I've just struck it with my spade."
A sharp, ringing sound was heard. The spade had struck something of ametallic nature at the bottom of the hole.
"I've found it, boys," he cried, in great excitement, stooping down andwith his hands brushing back the loose earth from the lid of a greatiron chest at the bottom of the hole. "The treasure is mine--mine atlast! Let that wretched Callister now beware!"
"And 'that wretched Callister' bids you say your prayers, young man!"cried a deep voice behind them. "In digging that hole you have dug yourgrave. Prepare to lie in it now."
The four boys sprang back, Frank leaping from the hole.
There, amid the old boxes and barrels in the dim light, the forms oftwo men could be seen with cocked revolvers pointed--one directly atthe head of Barney, the bootblack, the other at the head of Frank.