Well clear of the dangerous vicinity, he proceeded more leisurely for about a mile, until he came to a low whitewashed fence, inclosing a small cultivated patch and a neat farmhouse beyond.  Here he paused, and, cowering behind the fence, with extraordinary facial contortions produced a cry not unlike the scream of a blue jay.  Repeating it at intervals, he was presently relieved by observing the approach of a nankeen sunbonnet within the inclosure above the line of fence.  Stopping before him, the sun-bonnet revealed a rosy little face, more than usually plump on one side, and a neck enormously wrapped in a scarf.  It was “Meely” (Amelia) Stryker, a schoolmate, detained at home by “mumps,” as Johnny was previously aware.  For, with the famous indiscretion of some other great heroes, he was about to intrust his secret and his destiny to one of the weaker sex.  And what were the minor possibilities of contagion to this?

“Playin’ hookey ag’in?” said the young lady, with a cordial and even expansive smile, exclusively confined to one side of her face.

“Um!  So’d you be ef you’d bin whar I hev,” he said with harrowing mystery.

“No!—­say!” said Meely eagerly.

At which Johnny, clutching at the top of the fence, with hurried breath told his story.  But not all.  With the instinct of a true artist he withheld the manner in which the opening of the cave was revealed, said nothing about the tree, and, I grieve to say, added the words “Open Sesame” as the important factor to the operation.  Neither did he mention the name of Spanish Pete.  For all of which he was afterwards duly grateful.

“Meet me at the burnt pine down the crossroads at four o’clock,” he said in conclusion, “and I’ll show ye.”

“Why not now?” said Meely impatiently.

“Couldn’t.  Much as my life is worth!  Must keep watching out!  You come at four.”

And with an assuring nod he released the fence and trotted off.  He returned cautiously in the direction of the cave; he was by no means sure that the robbers might not return that day, and his mysterious rendezvous with Meely veiled a certain prudence.  And it was well!  For as he stealthily crept around the face of the outcrop, hidden in the ferns, he saw from the altered angle of the tree that the cavern was opened.  He remained motionless, with bated breath.  Then he heard the sound of subdued voices from the cavern, and a figure emerged from the opening.  Johnny grasped the ferns rigidly to check the dreadful cry that rose to his lips at its sight.  For that figure was his own brother!

There was no mistaking that weak, wicked face, even then flushed with liquor!  Johnny had seen it too often thus.  But never before as a thief’s face!  He gave a little gasp, and fell back upon that strange reserve of apathy and reticence in which children are apt to hide their emotions from us at such a moment.  He watched impassively the two other men who followed his brother out to give him a small bag and some instructions, and then returned within their cave, while his brother walked quickly away.  He watched him disappear; he did not move, for even if he had followed him he could not bear to face him in his shame.  And then out of his sullen despair came a boyish idea of revenge.  It was those two men who had made his brother a thief!