After we had dressed we walked around the island, keeping near the water.  Everywhere there were signs of digging, but no signs of treasure.  We were in no hurry, so we strolled along, on the watch for anything we might discover.  The shore of the cove where we landed was covered with flat stones, and we spent some time skipping them on the water, and a still longer time throwing stones at an empty bottle which we found and set afloat.  After a while Jimmy Toppan thought we ought to be going.

“There’s a fog-bank out there,” said he, “and it will be awful thick if it comes in.”

We all looked out to sea, where a gray mass hung over the water.

“Let’s have one more look on the hill,” said Mr. Daddles, “remember how sorry we’d be if someone else came here after us, and found a chest of golden guineas.”

So up to the hill we went again, and prowled around, kicking at loose rocks, and stamping wherever the earth sounded hollow.

“Under the tree is a more likely place,” Mr. Daddles reminded us, “they always bury it under a tree.”

“We ought to start,” said Jimmy, “the wind has come out east, and that fog will be here before long.”

“Just a minute—­look around here, boys,—­we’ll find it, if you’ll only look around.”

And he scrabbled around at a great rate.

“Leave no stone unturned,” said he, turning over two of them.

But we found nothing at all.  Nothing, that is, except dirt, grass, mullein-stalks, and beetles or crickets under the stones.  Mr. Daddles hunted energetically, pulling up grass by the roots, digging in the soil with his fingers, and kicking at stones with the toes of his tennis-shoes, until he shouted “Ouch!” and jumped about holding his foot in his hand.  Then he set to again, so excitedly that we looked at him in astonishment.

“P’r’aps we’d better start,” said Jimmy again.

“In a minute, in a minute,” exclaimed Mr. Daddles, poking about.  “Hunt, boys, hunt,—­I feel sure we’ll find something if we only hunt.”

We hunted, scraped over the earth and sand around that tree, and moved every stone and pebble.

“I tell you we must find some treasure here,—­we must!”

“How can we?” asked Ed, “if there isn’t any to find.”

“But there is.  I know there is!”

We stared at him.

“I know there is, because I buried it myself.”

“You did?  When?  How?  Where?  What for?”

“When you all went down to swim.  I thought you would feel disappointed not to find any treasure, so I buried all I had,—­a dollar and a quarter,—­two halves, two dimes, and a nickel.  And now we’ve got to find it, or we can’t get back on that horse-car.  We’ll have to walk,—­or else be as bad as Ike Flanders.”

Then we began to hunt in dead earnest.  We pulled up every blade of grass, felt in all the crevices of the rocks, and dug a toad out of his hole.  He looked highly surprised and indignant, but he gave us no help about the money.