The Syracuse and Lake Wawasee Journal, Volume 14, Number 23, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 6 October 1921 — Page 3

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beverul days went by, and still the treasure was unsound. Os course, as the unexplored space in the cave contracted, so daily the probability grew k stronger that Fortune would shed Tier golden smile upon us before night. Nevertheless, it seemed to me that the optimistic spirits of most were beginning to flag a little. Only Mr. Shaw, though banned as a confirmed doubter and pessimist, now by the-exercise of will kept the others to their task. As for Captain Magnus, his restlessness was manifest. Several times he had suggested blowing the lid off the island with dynamite as the shortest method of getting at the gold. He was always vanishing on solitary excursions inland. Mr. Tubbs remarked, scornfully, that a man with a nose for money ought to have smelled out the chest before this, but if his own nasal powers were of that character he did not offer to .employ them in the service of the expedition. Miss HigglesbyBrowne, however, had taken to retiring to the hut for long private sessions with herself. My aunt reverentially explained their purpose. The hidingplace of the chest being of course known to the Universal Wisdom, all; Violet had to do was to put herself! in harmony and the knowledge would 1 be hers. The difficulty was that you had first to overcome your Mundane Consciousness. To accomplish this Violet was struggling in the hut. After my meeting with Captain Mag-' nus in the forest, Lookout ridge was' barred to me. Crusoe and I must do. our rambling in other directions.; being so, I bethought me again ® of the .wrecked sloop lying under the cliffs on the north shore of the cove.j I remembered that there had seemed; to be away down the cliffs. I resolved to visit the sloop again. The terrible practicability of the beautiful youth made it difficult to indulge in romantic musings in his presence. And to me a derelict brings a keener of rbmance than any other relic of inAn’s multitudinous and futile strivitigs. The descent ot the gully proved an easy matter, and soon I was on the sahd beside the derelict. Sand had heaped up around her hull, and filled her cockpit level with the rail, and drifted down the companion, stuffing the little cabin nearly to the roof. Only the bow rose tree from the white smother of sand. Whatever wounds there were in her buried sides were hidden. You felt that some wild caprice of the storm had lifted her and set her down here, not too roughly, then whirled away and left her to the sand. Crusoe slipped into the narrow space under the roof of the cabin, and I leaned idly down to watch him through a warped seam between the planks. Then I found that I was looking, not at Crusoe, but into a little dim Enclosure like a locker, in which some email object faintly caught the light. With a revived hope of finding relics, I' got out my knife—a present from Cuthbert Vane—and set briskly to work widening the seam. I penetrated finally into a small locker dr cubby-hole, set in the angle under the roof of the cabin, and, as subsequent investigation showed, so placed as to attract no notice from the casual eye. I ascertained this by lying down and wriggling my head and shoulders into the cabin. In other words, I had happened on a little private depository, in which the owner of the sloop might stow away certain small matters that concerned him intimately. Yet the contents of the locker at first seemed trifling. They were an old-fashioned chased silver shoe-buckle, and a brown-covered manuscript. book. , Tfle book had suffered much from dampness, whether of rains or - the ♦ wash of the sea. I seated myself on the cabin roof, extracted a hairpin, and began carefully separating the closewritten pages. The first three or four

J Co Ox d /cL iZ , I IHii \®2s. I Mad* Out a Ward Her* and There. were quite Illegible, the Ink having run. Then the writing became clearer. I made out a word here and there: :1—

"....directions vague....my grandfather man a ruffian but....no mo-, live.... police of Havana... .frightful den....grandfather made sure....registry.... Bonny Lass.... ” And at that I gave a small excited shriek which brought Crusoe to me in I a hurry, i What had he to do, the writer of this journal, what had he to do with the Bonny Lass? Breathlessly 1 read on: “....thought captain still living but not sure... .105 t... .Benito 80n...." I closed the book. Now, while the 1 coast was clear, 1 must get back to< camp. It would take hours, perhaps days, to decipher the journal which had suddenly become of such supreme, importance. 1 must smuggle it unobserved Into my own quarters, where I could read at my leisure. As I set out I dropped the silver shoe-buckle into my pocket, smiling to think that it was I who had discovered the first bit of precious metal on the island. Yet the book in my hand, 1 felt instinctively, was of more value than many shoe-buckles. Safely in my hammock, with a pillow under which I the book in case of interruption, I resumed the reading. From this pojpt on, although the writing was somewhat faded. It was all, With a little effort, legible. » THE DIARY. x “If Sampson did live to tel) his secret, then any day there may be a sail in the oiling. And stilt I cannot find it! Oh, if my grandfather had Seen more worldly wise! If lie hadn’t been too Intent on the eternal welfare of the man he rescued from the Havana tavern brawl to question him about his story. A cave on Leeward Island —nearby a stone marked with the letters B. H. and a cross-bones — •1 told the captain,’ said the poor dying wretch, ‘we wouldu'.' have no luck after playing it that low down on Bill!’ So 1 presume Bill lies under the stone. “Well, all I have is in this venture. The old farm paid for the Island Queen —or will, if I don’t get back in time to prevent foreclosure. All my staid New England relatives think me mad. A copra gatherer! A tine career for a minister’s son! Well, when I get home with, my Spanish doubloons there will be another story to tell. I won’t be poor crazy Peter then. And Heien—oh, how often I wish 1 had told her everything! It was too much to ask her to trust me blindly as I did. But from that moment 1 came across the story in grandfather’s old, half-forgotten diary—by the way, the diary habit seems to run in the family—a very passion of secrecy has possessed me. If I had told Helen, I should have had to dread that even in her sweet sleep she might whisper something to put that ferret, her stepmother, on the scent. Oh, Helen, trust me, trust me! “December 25. I have a calendar with me, so I am not reduced to notching a stick to keep track of the days. 1 mark off each carefully in the calendar. If I were to forget to do this, even for a day or two, I believe I should quite lose track, The days are so terribly alike! “My predecessor here In the copragathering business, old Heintz, really left me a very snug establishment. It was odd that I should have run across him at Panama* that way, “Christmas Day! I wonder what* they are all doing at home? “December 28, Os course the cave under the point is the logical place. I have been unable to find any stone marked B. H. on the ground above It, but I fear that a search after Bill’s tombstone would be hopeless. Under clrcumstapces such as those of the mate’s story, it seems to me that all the probabilities point to their com cealing the chest in the cave with an opening on the bay. To get the boat, laden with the heavy chest, through the surf to any of the other caves—if the various cracks and fis* sures I have seen are indeed properly to be called caves —would be stiff work for three men. Yes, everything indicates the cavern under the point. The only question is. isn’t It Indicated too clearly? Would, il snjopth Old

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- :_L. ?| scoundrel such as this Captain Sampson must have been have hidden his treasure in tiie very place certain to be ransacked if the secret ever got out? Unless It was deeply buried, which It could have heen only at certain stages of the tide, even old Heintz would have been apt to run across it In the course of Ids desultory researches for the riches of the buccaneers. And I am certain plac’d old Heintz di<l not mislead me. Besides, at Panama, he was making arrange-, ments to go with some other Germans on a small business venture to Samoa, ‘ which he would not have been likely to do if be had just unearthed a vast fortune in buried treasure. Still, I ' shall explore the cave thoroughly, | though with little ho]>e. “Oh, Helen. If 1 could watch these tropic stars with you tonight 1 !

"January C. 1 think I am through i with the cave under the point—the ; Cavern of the Two Arches, I have ; named it. I jipeved into every crevice i in the walls, iliul Sounded the sands with a drill. I suppose I would have made a more thorough job of It if 1 had. not been <•< nviiiced from the first that the ■chest was not there. Shall , I ever forget the feeling that stirred ! me when first I turned the pages of i my grandfather's diary and saw there, in his faded writing. the story of the mate of the Bonny Lass-. who died in : Havana in my grandfather’s arms? | My grandfather had gone as supercargo in his'own ship, and while he did a good stroke of business in Havana — i trust his shrewd Yankee instincts for that —he mauhged to combine the j service of Go<l with that of Mammon. | Many a poor drunken sailor, taking Ids fling ashore in th bright, treacherous plagtie-ridden city, found in him. a friend, as did the mate of the Bonny Lass in his dying hour. Oh, if my good grandfather had but made | sure from the man’s own lips exactly where the treasure lay! It is enough to make one*fancy that the unknown Bill, who paid for too much knowledge with his life, has his own fashion of guarding the hoard. But I ramble. I was going to say, that from the moment when I learned from i my grandfather’s diary of the existence of the treasure. 1 have been driven py an impulse more overmastering than anything 1 have ever experienced in my life, it was. 1 believe, what old-fashioned pious folk would call a leading. Ad my life I had been irresolute, the sport of circumstances, triflng with this nnd that, unable to set my face steadfastly toward any goal. Yet never, since I have trodden this path, have 1 looked to right or left. I have defied both human opinion and the obstacles which an unfriendly fate has thrown In’ my way. All alone, I, a sailor hitherto of pleas-ure-craft among the bays and Islands of the New England coast, put forth in my little sloop for a voyage of three hundred miles on the loneliest wastes of the Pacific. All albne, did I say? No, there was Benjy the faithful. His head is at my knee as 1 write. He knows, I think, that his master’s mood Is sad tonight. Oh, Helen, if you ever see these lines will you realize how I have longed for*you —how it sometimes seems that my soul must tear itself loose from my body and speed to you across half a world? “February 1. Since my last record my time has been well filled. In the Island Queen I have been surveying the coasts of my domain, sailing as Close in as I dared, and taking note of every crevice that might be the mouth of a cave. Then, either in the rowboat or by scrambling down the cliffs, I visit the Indicated point. It is bitterly hard labor, but it has its compensations. I am growing hale and strong, brown and muscular. “S<> far 1 have discovered half a dozen caves, most of them quite small. Any one of them seemed such a likely place that at first I was quite hopeful. But 1 have found nothing. Usually the floor'of the, eave beneath a few Inches of sand Is rock. Only in the great cave under the point have 1 found sand to any depth. Igo always •»n the principle that Captain Sampson and his two assistants had not time for any elaborate work of concealment. iMost likely they laid the chest In some natural niche. Sailors are unskilled In the use of such implements as spades, amt besides, the very heart of„ the undertaking was haste and secrecy. They must have worked at night and between two-titles, for few of the caves can be reached except at the ebb. And I take it as certain that tiie cave must have opened directly on the sea. For three men to transport such a weight and hulk by land would be sheer impossibility. “February 10. Today a strange.

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LAKE WAWASEE AND SYRACUSE JOXJRNAL

thing Happened—so s strange, “so wonderful and glorious that it ought to be recorded in luminous ink. And I owe It all to Benjy! Little dog, /you shall go in a golden collar and eat lamb-chops day! This morning—” Across my absorption in the diary cut the unwelcome clangor of Cookie’s gong. Right oh the breathless edge of discovery I was summoned with my thrilling secret In my breast, to join my unsuspecting companions. I hid the book carefully in my cot. Not until the light of tomorrow mornings could I return to its perusal. How 1 was to survive the interval 1 did not know. But on one point my mind was made up—no one should dream of the existence of the diary until I knew ail that it had to impart. CHAPTER X. Miss Browne Has a Vision. Perhaps because of the secret excitement under which I was laboring, I seemed that evening unusually aware of the emotional fluctuations of those about me. Violet looked grimmer than ever, so that I judged her struggles with her mundane consciousness to have been exceptionally severe. Captain Magnns seemed even beyond his wont restless, loose-jointed and wandering-eyed, and performed ~exI traordinary feats of swprd-swallow-ing. Mr. Shaw was very silent, and his forehead knitted, now and then ; into a reflective frown, As for myself, ; 1 hud much ado to hide my abstrac- | tion. and turned cold from head to foot 1 with alarm when I heard my own voice addressing Crusoe as Benjy. A faint ripple of surprise passed round the table. “Named your dog over again. Miss Jinny?” inquired Mr. Tubbs. Mr. , ! Tubbs had adopted a facetiously pa- -- ternal manner toward me. I knew In anticipation of the moment when he would invite me to call him Uncle Ham. » , “I say, you know,” expostulated Cuthbert Vane, “I thought Crusoe rather a nice name. Never heard of any , chap named Benjy that lived on an 1 island.” I tried to rally from my confusion, but 1 knew my cheeks were burning.--Looks of deepening surprise greeted tiie scarlet emblems of discomfiture that I hung out. I “By heck,' bet there’s a feller at home named Benjy!” cackled Mr. Tubbs shrilly, and for once I blessed him. • ' I Aunt Jane turned- upon him her round innocent eyes. “Oh, no, Mr. Tubbs,” she assured* him, “I don’t think a single one of them was named Benjy!” The laughter which followed this gave me time to get myself in hand ■ again. “Crusoe it is and will be,” 1 asserted. “It happens that a girl I know at home has a dog named Benjy.” Which happened fortunately to be true, for otherwise I should have been obliged to invent It. But the girl is a cat, and the dog a miserable little highbred something, all shivers and no hair. I should never-4tave thought -of him in the same breath with Crusoe. That evening Mr. Shaw addressed the gathering at the camp-fire—which we made small and bright, and thdn sat well away from because of the heat —and in a few words gave it as his opihion that any further search in the cave under the point was useless. (If he had known the strange confirmatory echo which this awoke in my mind!) He proposed that the shore of the island to a reasonable distance on either side of the bay entrance should be surveyed, with a view to discover whether some other cave did not exist which would answer the description given by the dying Hopperdown as well as that first explored. Mr. Shaw’s words were addressed to the ladies, the organizer and financier, respectively, of the expedition, to the very deliberate exclusion of Mr. Tubbs. But he might as well have made up his mind to recognize the triumvirate. Enthroned on a camp-chair sat Aunt Jane, like a little goddess of tljaJDol-

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Itfr Sign, ana on one nana Mr. Tubbs smiled blandly, nnd on the other Violet gloomed. You saw that in sacred council Mr. Shaw’s announcement had been foreseen and deliberated upon. Miss Browne, who carried an . Invisible rostrum with her wherever she went, now alertly mounted it. “My friends,” she began, “those dwelling on a plane where the Material is all may fail to- grasp the thought which I shall put before you this evening. My friends, this expedition was, so to speak, called from the Void by Thought. Thought it was, as realized in steamships and other ephemeral forms, which bore us over rolling seas. How, then, can it be otherwise than that Thought should influence our fortunes —that success should be unable to materialize before a i>ersistent attitude of Negation? My

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“This Expedition Was Called From the Void by Thought.” friends, you will perceive that there is no break in this sequence of ideas; all is remorseless logic. “In order to withdraw myself from this atmosphere of Negation, for these several days past I have sought seclusion. There In silence I have asserted the power of Positive over Negative Thought, gazing meanwhile into the profound depths of the All. My friends, an answer has been vouchsafed us; I have had a vision of that for which we seek. Now at last, in a spirit of glad confidence, we may advance. For, my friends, the chest Is buried—in sand.” With this triumphant announcement Miss Higglesby-Browne sat down. A heavy silence succeeded. It was broken by a murmur from Mr. Tubbs. “Wonderful —that’s what I call wonderful! Talk about the eloquence of the ancients —I believe, by gum, this is on a par with congressional oratory!” “A vision, Miss Brown,” said Mr. Shaw gravely, “must be an Interesting thing. I have never seen one myself, having no talents that way. but in the little Scotch town of Dumbiedykes where I was born there was afl old lady with a remarkable gift of second sight. Simple folk, not being acquainted with the proper terms to fit the case, called her ■ the Wise Woman. Well, one day my aunt had been to the neighboring town of Mick-

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"estane, five miles off, and on the way back to Dumbiedykes she lost her purse. It had three sovereigns in it — a great sum to my aunt. 4 ln her trouble of mind she hurried to the Wise Woman—a thing to make her pious father turn in his grave. The Wise Woman —gazed into the All. I suppose, and told my aunt not to fret herself, for she hud had a vision of the purse nnd It lay somewhere on tiie road between Micklestane and Dumbiedykes. "Now. Miss Browne. I’ll take the liberty of drawing a moral from this story to fit the present instance; where on the road between Micklestane and Dumbiedykes is the chest?" Though startled at the audacity of Mr. Shaw. I was unprepared for the spasm of absolute fury that convulsed Miss Browne’s countenance. (TO BE CONTINUED) O - ALL WORN 01T Does morning - find you with a lame, stiff and aching back? Are you tired all the time—find work a burden? Have you suspected your kidneys? People around here endorse Doan’s Kidney Pills. Ask your neighbor! You can rely on their statements. D. S. Kauffman, ciiran dealer, Whittock St., Bremen, Ind., says: “Mv back was painful and so stiff I couldn’t stoop or straighten. I couldn’t even get up from a chair without assistance. I was caused annoyance by the frequent action of my kidneys and blinding headaches and dizzv spells annoyed me, too. Doan’s Kidney Pills were recommended nnd I used some. My backache nnd headaches disappeared and *he trouble with the kidney '-cvpfjons was also removed.” Mr. Kauffman cave the above f atement February 28, 1907,

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and on February 4, 1919, he added: “The cure Doan’s Kidney Pills made for me some years ago is permanent. I gladly repeat my former words of praise.” 60c, at alt dealers. Foster-Mil-burn co., Mfrs., Buffalo, N. Y. o STATEMENT OF THE OWNERSHIP, MAN AGEM ENT, CI lICULATION, l.Tt’., Rr.Qtii.fi) BY THE ACT OF CO. or.L.xS OF AIGLST SI, 101:1, Os The Syracuse and Lake Wawasce Journal, published weekly at Syracuse’, Indiana, for October 1. 1921: State of Indiana, County of Kosciusko, ss: Before me. a Notary Public in and fur the State ‘and County aforesaid, personally appealed Preston H. Miles, who, having been duly sworn accordi g to law, deposes and says that he is tiie Editor-Owner-of The Syracuse and Luke Wawasee Journal and that the following is. to the best of his knowledge aiid belief, a true statement of the ownership, 'management, etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shu.vn in the above caption, required by the Act of August 24. 1912, embodied in section 413. Postal Laws and Regulations, printed on the reverse of this form, to-wit: ’“hat the name and addresses of the publisher, editor, managing editor and business managers are; Preston H. Miles, Syracuse, Ind ,mx That the owners are: Preston H. Miles, Syracuse, Indiana. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security hoh’e s owning or holdpig 1 percent or more of the total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: The Linograph Company, Davenport, Iowa: State Bank, Syracuse, Indi <na x (Signed) PRESTON H. MILES. Editor-Owner. Subscribed and sworn to bes nie this sth day of October, 19?\, (SEAL) Warren T Colwe’l, Notary Pub ic. My commission Dec. 10, 1921. — o .’ For Mtndirrg Rubbers. Old jar rubbers can be heuted Id a pan until they become soft and then smeared on holes In your hot-wnter bottle, your boots, shoes, or anything i Ise that needs mending. The rubber patch should be smoothed down with the heated blade of u knife.