and with a voice ringing in my ears: Dig here and the treasure will be found. That's just what there is of it yet," he concluded, half-defiantly, "and now it's for you to say."
"What do you want me to do in it?" asked Timms cautiously. "You aren't offering me a share in whatever there may be for nothing."
"We've been pals, Ned," said Elgood reproachfully, "and you're the one man I could trust with a thing like this; besides, I should like to help you. Then, I've thought it over, and it seems to me that the only way it's to be done is to take a craft and get there at dark. If two or three men could bury whatever there is in a few hours, we can dig it up and get it aboard by morning and no one's likely to be about at that time. The Nymph will draw light enough without cargo to get a landing there."
"And who's to stay with her while we're away?"
"I never thought of that. Better take your lad with us. He'd be all right. Well, what do you say?"
"There's something powerful attractive both about dreams and buried treasure to a sailor-man," replied Timms thoughtfully; "I had an uncle who ran on to Walston Head following a dream, which so annoyed him that he never would believe in them again till he lost his boat through neglecting another. Yes, I'll go if it's share and share alike."
"Share and share alike it is," replied Elgood, and they shook hands on it and fell to arranging details.
The following day, at about four o'clock, the Nymph, with a crew of only two men and a boy, cast off from the quay and stood down the Channel. At ten o'clock in the evening she brought-to slowly in a secluded creek, and the two adult members of her crew waded ashore, each carrying a spade and a mattock. On reaching the
