Leopold, when he had considered the matter. "You can keep your eye on
the old boat, and see that she don't do any harm."

"I can keep her from doing any mischief," said Stumpy.

Leopold asked his companion to haul the Rosabel up to the beach, and,
shoving off the old boat, he returned to the spot under Coffin Rock
where he had been digging. Using his shovel vigorously for a few
moments, he filled up the excavation he had made, and levelled off the
sand and gravel, so that no chance visitor at the place should discover
the traces of his labor.

By the time he had finished the work, the Rosabel had been hauled up to
the beach, and the painter of the old boat attached to her stern. In a
few moments the money-digger and his friend were under way, standing
towards the mouth of the river.

"I don't see why my father should be worried about me," said Leopold, as
he seated himself at the tiller.

"You don't very often go out in the night, and in a thunder-storm, too.
I was worried about you myself, Le, for any fellow might be caught in a
squall. Without saying anything to your father, or any other person, I
took the old boat, and stood out of the river. I shouted to you with all
my might. When I got out beyond the point, I saw the light on the beach,
under High Rock, and went for it."

"Well, I'm much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken," added
Leopold.

"But what in the world were you doing on the beach with the lantern and
the shovel?" asked Stumpy. "You couldn't catch any clams under the rocks
where you were."

"I didn't catch any. When you sung out, I was sitting on the beach. I
had anchored the Rosabel, with a long cable, and when the squall came,
it blew her off so far from the shore that I could not get on board of
her without swimming."

"O, that's it--was it?" exclaimed Stumpy, entirely satisfied with this
explanation.

Certainly every word which Leopold had uttered was strictly and
literally true; but Stumpy's deception was as complete as though it had
been brought about by a lie. The money-digger was not quite satisfied
with himself, though he had an undoubted right to "keep his own
counsel," if he chose to do so. But while he was thus bothered about the
situation, his friend changed the topic.

"I wanted to see you," said Stumpy, after he had accepted his
companion's explanation.

"What for?"

"That old hunks had gone and done it!" added Stumpy, whose chief
emotion seemed to be a violen