"What's that? More of them gone, Jack?" asked Paul, lowering his voice,
so that the two scouts at the tail end of the line might not hear.

"Don't know yet. Didn't have the nerve to go up into my den since this
morning. To tell the truth that place has lost all charm for me. Whenever
I find myself there I get to shivering, and looking around, just like I
half expected to see a ghost step out, and pick up one of those miserable
coins right before my very eyes--ugh! it's horrible to feel that way, and
I used to be so fond of my den, too."

"Oh! I hope and expect you will be again, Jack, when we've settled this
little thing. You say none of them were ever taken in the night?" said
Paul, earnestly; while his knitted brows told how much he felt concerned
over the mystery.

"Certainly not. Always in broad daylight. That's the queer part of it,"
returned the other, promptly.

"Sure, seeing that they always go in the daytime, and when you're away
from home, too. Anybody else going to be there to-night?"

"To supper--oh! no. Karl went off after breakfast, to visit our uncle for
a few days before school commences. I took him to the train myself, and
then mustered up enough courage to climb up there, and once more count
the coins," went on Jack.

"Six there then, eh?" asked Paul.

"Just as last night. And I purposely left the door unlocked."