James was not without his share of curiosity, and he was strongly desirous of seeing with his own eyes the pot of gold, and so learning how rich the hermit was.

Prejudiced as he was against Mark, he did not really believe the boy would appropriate money that did not belong to him, though it would have been a satisfaction to him to find that his enemy was in a scrape.

"That boy, Mark, seems to be an artful young rascal," Lyman Taylor remarked, as they were walking along together.

"He is all of that," said James, emphatically.

"My uncle is old, and his mind is weak. He is very likely to be influenced by a sharp, unprincipled boy."

"It's lucky you came down here to watch him."

"That depends on whether I am able to put a spoke in his wheel."

"Do you know whether your uncle has much money?"

"I don't know, positively, but I have heard he was very successful in California."

"If he is rich, I shouldn't think he would live in such a tumble-down cabin," said Tom.

"Perhaps he has become a miser. His burying money looks like it."

They entered the wood, and as the boys knew their way all over it, they were able to go straight to the tree.

"It was from this tree that old Anthony measured," said James.

"Can you tell in what direction?" inquired Lyman, anxiously.

"This way, I am sure."

"Do you know how far?"

"Not exactly, but we can tell by seeing where the ground has been disturbed."

Lyman Taylor took the spade and began to dig vigorously. Such hard work was not generally to his taste, but now he was spurred by a powerful motive.

He would not have been sorry, now that he had obtained the information he required, if the boys had left him to work alone. But this they had no intention of doing. ............