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.

"Well, I'm sorry,--sorry to get you into all this mess," said Mr.
Daddles. "We'd better leave it, I suppose, and go back to Squid
Cove. We can walk--and if that really is fog--"

"It's fog, all right," said Jimmy.

There was a sea-turn. The wind smelt salty and damp, and the fog
was creeping in. It was not more than a mile distant. We all knew
enough about fogs not to want to be out in the bay in one, without
a compass, and when it was nearly sunset. So we hurried down to
the boat, and pushed off.

"If anyone ever asks me if there is treasure on Fishback Island,"