rod it kep' goin' down. Den de rod at las' struck sumpn; and we was so
glad, thinkin' we'd struck de pot! Every one was rejoiced! We didn'
talk, but jes fling up de dirt! An' when we dig down dere, sah, what
you spose 'twas. Nothin' but a big ole cow's horn. An' after all dat
diggin'! We done an' digged a hole 'bout fifteen or twenty feet across,
and goodness knows how deep; an' 'twas 'bout four in de mornin' before
we quit. We pack up an' come back home, feelin' jes as cheap as a wet
chicken.

"De ole 'oman come 'roun agin, an' tole us dat de money was dere; fer de
sperit had tole her agin 'twas dere. But we warn't anxious to try for it
agin. We thought we done enough."

Old Henry chuckled, and limped away; and we both laughed heartily at his
droll yarn. Jamesby enjoyed the tale particularly; and, although I felt
that it might somehow be at my expense, I was duly amused.

When Jamesby descended from his hilarious heights, he turned to me
rather gravely, and said, "Now, I want it from your own lips; did you
really dig for money on Money Island?"

I answered, "I did."

"And," he continued, "was that a true story you told about it?"

"Now, Jamesby," I replied, "I really cannot endure this doubt cast upon
the truthfulness of my story. I decline to discuss the matter. You have
read the paper, and you know me as the author of the story."

"But," he added in rather a comical tone, "there are some things which