instantly gave way, a thick cloud of dust rolling up; and then, a
hollow dark cavity appeared right in the centre of the mound, which we
could now see was heaped up over the wooden framework, so as to conceal
it from the notice of any one passing by.

"Hooray!" shouted Tom Bullover, waving his hat and jumping up in the air
to further express his emotion. "We've found the buccaneers' blessed
treasure. Look out for the ghost, Hiram!"

"Durn the ghost!" retorted the other; "not twenty on 'em wu'd kep me
back now, I guess!"

At the same moment, he made a dive to enter the opening, but Tom put his
hand on his shoulder and half pulled him back.

"Stop, bo," he said. "There might be foul air in it, 'cause of its
being so long closed up. Let's wait and see."

"How ken ye tell thet?" asked Hiram; "guess it don't matter a red cent
if ther air."

"You just wait," insisted Tom. "I'll find out in a jiffey; and then, if
it's safe, we can venture in. The cave ain't a-goin' to run away from
us, and you know the old saying, `more haste less speed!' We're going
to do things in proper shipshape fashion, bo, so none o your rushing
matters; it'll all come right in time!"

With these words, Tom, who was a sensible, matter-of-fact fellow, with
his head screwed on straight and all his wits about him, took out a box
of matches from the inside lining of his hat, where he always kept his
pipe and tobacco and such things that he did not wish to get wet; and,
lighting one of the matches, he proceeded to hold it within the dark
cavity.

The flame flickered and then suddenly went out, although there wasn't a
breath of air stirring, the trees around preventing the sea-breeze from
reaching the spot where we stood--a sort of little hollow between the
hills.

"There you are, bo," said Tom; "see that?"

"Guess I don't underconstubble," answered Hiram, staring at him in
perplexity. "What d'ye mean, hey?"

"Didn't you watch the match go out?" returned Tom. "Lord, I never did
see such a feller!"

"Wa-al, what ef the durned match did fiz out?"

"Don't yer know what it means?"

"Guess not."

"It shows as how there's foul air there, bo--that's what the match's
going out means. It tells us not to go in!"

Tom said this with a chuckle, for which Hiram gave him a dig in the
ribs.

"Hev yer own way, Chips, fur a bit," he said; "but I'm jiggered if ye
air a-going to kep me from prospectin' thet thaar hole."

"Nobody wants to," reto