with his dad," said the boy, "he tole it ter me ez how he seen a bar
las' Wednesday a-climbin' over the fence ter thar cornfield, with a
haffen dozen roastin'-ears under his arm an' a watermillion on his
head. But WAR it a haffen dozen? I furgits now ef Pete said it war
a haffen dozen or nine ears of corn the bar hed;" and he paused to
reflect in the midst of his important occupation.

"I'll be bound Pete never stopped ter count 'em," said Mrs. Dicey.
"Pick that chile up an' come in. I'm goin' ter bar up the door."

Birt Dicey plodded away through the deep woods and the dense
darkness down the ravine. Although he could not now distinguish one
stone from another, he had an uncontrollable impulse to visit again
the treasure he had discovered. The murmur of the gently bubbling
water warned him of the proximity of the deep salt spring almost at
the base of the mountain, and, guiding himself partly by the sound,
he made his way along the slope to the great bowlder beneath the
cliffs that served to mark the spot. As he laid his hand on the
bowlder, he experienced a wonderful exhilaration of spirit. Once
more he canvassed his scheme. This was the one great opportunity of
his restricted life. Visions of future possibilities were opening
wide their fascinating vistas. He might make enough to buy a horse,
and this expressed his idea of wealth. "But ef I live ter git a
cent out'n it," he said to himself, "I'll take the very fust money I
kin call my own an' buy Tennessee a chany cup an' sarcer, an' a
string o' blue beads an' a caliky coat--ef I die fur it."

His pleased reverie was broken by a sudden discovery. He was not
standing among stones about the great bowlder; no--his foot had sunk
deep in the sand! He stooped down in the darkness and felt about