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She picked up the saucer and stood looking down at the gold piece which Croaker had brought in. "I don't s'pose there's a particle of use keepin' an eye on that crow?" she asked. "No doubt. She'd light up a wide area." "Old Scroggie's ghost huntin' fer the lost money," whispered Walter, "Oh, gosh! let's leg it!'.

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It was, perhaps, just as well for Anson that he kept out of Billy's way during this period. However very little that Billy did was missed by his pale blue eyes. He knew that his step-brother had visited the haunted house alone and had searched it nook and corner. For what? He had seen him fasten his rabbit-foot to a branch of a tree and dig, and dig. For what? He wanted to find out but dared not ask. Perhaps Billy was going crazy! He acted like it. Anson made up his mind that he would confide his suspicions in his mother. But on the very day that he had decided to pour into Mrs. Wilson's ear all the strange goings-on of his brother, Billy caught him out on a forest-path alone and, gripping him by the shoulder, threatened to conjure up by means of witchcraft at his command a seven-headed dragon with cat-fish hooks for claws who would rip his—Anson's—soul to shreds if he so much as breathed to his mother one word of what he had seen. "Naw, can't you see if we told our dads that, they'd want 'a know what you an' me was doin' out in Scroggie's bush in the rain, at that hour of the night? No siree, we won't say a word 'bout it." Billy stood frowning. "Say, maybe Jacobs is the feller that fires the boilers that runs the windlass," he hazarded. "No, tell me here.".