of the trail," said Don in a whisper.

"Maybe we're here first," said Tim.

But they dared not take the chance of haste. Rival scouts might be
waiting, hidden, to pounce on them. They listened, while their hearts
beat heavily.

"I'm going forward," said Tim at last, and edged out. Soon they knew that
neither the Eagles nor the Foxes had yet reached the goal.

Then began a frantic search. They wanted to find the treasure and away.
Not a sound broke the stillness but bird calls and their own footsteps.
Yet they knew that, from some place among the trees, scouts were stealing
toward them. They went out in a wide circle, worked in, and found
nothing.

"Mr. Wall wouldn't make this too hard," said Tim. "He's left some sign.
How could he hide it?"

"Among tree branches," said Don, "or in a tree hollow, or in the
ground--"

"That's it," cried Tim. "Burying would leave a sign--freshly turned
earth. Come on."

They searched again in nervous hurry, and kept looking over their
shoulders as though trying to peer through the veil of trees. Don saw no
earth that looked fresh, but he did see a suspicious mound near a tree.
He put his feet on the spot. His heel sank softly.

"Tim!" he called.

Tim came running. "That's it. Why didn't we bring a trowel?" He dug
at the earth with his ax. Don unslung his haversack, pulled out the
frying-pan, and scooped with the pan handle.

The sweat rolled into their eyes. They worked feverishly. All at once
Tim's ax hit something softer and more yielding than the earth.

"She's here, Don! Gee! she's here!" He dropped the axe and worked with
his hands; by degrees the top of a pasteboard box appeared. They loosened
the earth around the sides, found grips for their fingers, and pulled.
The box came out. It was tied with string and could have been in the
ground only a few days.

The prize was theirs. In their excitement they hugged each other
joyously.

"You did it, Tim!" cried Don. "You get the credit."

"You found it," Tim said huskily. "You'd have found it without me.
You--" Something he had kept bottled all morning, something he had never
expected to say, tumbled from his lips. "You should have knocked my block
off last night."

"Forget it," Don muttered lamely, but his eyes flamed with a new light.
He knew now that he had made no mistake in bringing Tim into the woods.

They stood with that queer awkwardness that moves boys when they bare
their hearts. Tim fingered the string ar