“I’ve heared them say that lightning don’t strike two times in the same place,” said he, as he drew me higher upon the beach and took hold of the valises, “an’ that’s what made me come up here. Swan has been here once an’ done all the damage he could, an’ ’tain’t no ways likely that he’ll come agin. Pap dassent come so fur from home, ’cause he’s that scared of the constables that he sticks clost to the shanty all the time, an’ don’t even go huntin’ for squirrels; so I reckon the woods about here are the best place I can find to hide my money. I’ll leave my canoe, too, an’ then, when I get ready to strike out for myself, I’ll have him an’ the money an’ both them fine guns right where I can lay my hands onto ’em.”
So saying Jake disappeared in the bushes, taking the valises with him. He was gone half an hour, and when he returned he proceeded to fold me up and tie me together with a piece of rope. This done he found a hiding-place for me under a pile of brush about twenty feet from the spot where the lean-to stood before it was burned, and, after covering me up as well as he could in the dark, glided away with noiseless footsteps. It was a long time before I saw him again, but he had not been gone more than five minutes when I heard a slight rustling among the leaves and a snapping of twigs as if some one was walking cautiously over them. Then I knew I was not alone in the woods. Who my invisible companion was I could not tell for certain, but I believed it was the occupant of the skiff that had followed us from the outlet. He revealed his identity when he came near my place of concealment, for I recognized his voice. It was Matt Coyle. He had kept Jake in sight until he saw him paddle into the creek, and then he landed and took to the woods. Something told him where the boy was going with the money he had fished out of the lake, and by going afoot and taking a short cut he gained on Jake so much that he arrived in the vicinity of his old camp at least ten minutes ahead of him. But he could not see where the valises had been hidden—the woods were too dark for that—and now he was trying his best to find them, as I learned from his soliloquy.
“He’s a pretty smart boy, Jakey is, but not smart enough to fool his pap,” I heard him say. “The ondutiful scamp! I had oughter wear a hickory out on him the minute I get home; but here’s the diffikilty; if I do that he’ll tell Rube where them fine guns is hid, an’ the minute they are give up to their owners then Rube’11 turn squar’ around an’ have me took up for the sake of gettin’ the reward. See? If I can find the money all unbeknownst to Jakey, an’ take it off an’ hide it somewhere else, so’t I can find it every time I want to use a dollar or two, then Jakey’11 think that the constables have stumbled on it, an’ he won’t never say a word; but if I try to force him to give it up there’ll be a furse, sure. He’s like his pap, Jakey is. It won’t do to crowd him too fur. Mebbe it’s in yer.”