"Simple boy," quoth my uncle, "would you have some malignant spy steal from me the fruits of ten long years of high-hearted, persevering endeavor? Solitary in my scheme, I go to a solitary place to test it. If I fail--for all things are possible--no one out of the family will know it. If I succeed, secure in the secrecy of my invention, I can boldly demand any price for its publication." "Pardon me, dear uncle; you are wiser than I." "One would think years and gray hairs should bring wisdom, boy." "Yorpy there, dear uncle; think you his grizzled locks thatch a brain improved by long life?" "Am I Yorpy, boy? Keep to your oar!" Thus padlocked again, I said no further word till the skiff grounded on the shallows, some twenty yards from the deep-wooded isle. "Hush!" whispered my uncle, intensely; "not a word now!" and he sat perfectly still, slowly sweeping with his glance the whole country around, even to both banks of the here wide-expanded stream. "Wait till that horseman, yonder, passes!" he whispered again, pointing to a speck moving along a lofty, riverside road, which perilously wound on midway up a long line of broken bluffs and cliffs. "There--he's out of sight now, behind the copse. Quick! Yorpy! Carefully, though! Jump overboard, and shoulder the box, and--Hold!" We were all mute and motionless again. "Ain't that a boy, sitting like Zaccheus in yonder tree of the orchard on the other bank? Look, youngster--young eyes are better than old--don't you see him?" "Dear uncle, I see the orchard, but I can't see any boy." "He's a spy--I know he is," suddenly said my uncle, disregardful of my answer, and intently gazing, shading his eyes with his flattened hand. "Don't touch the box, Yorpy. Crouch! crouch down, all of ye!" "Why, uncle--there--see--the boy is only a withered white bough. I see it very plainly now." "You don't see the tree I mean," quoth my uncle, with a decided air of relief, "but never mind; I defy the boy. Yorpy, jump out, and shoulder the box. And now then, youngster, off with your shoes and stockings, roll up your trousers legs, and follow me. Carefully, Yorpy, carefully. That's more precious than a box of gold, mind." "Heavy as de gelt anyhow," growled Yorpy, staggering and splashing in the shallows beneath it. "There, stop under the bushes there--in among the flags--so--gently, gently--there, put it down just there. Now youngster, are you ready? Follow--tiptoes, tiptoes!" "I can't wade in this mud and water on my tiptoes, uncle; and I don't see the need of it either." "Go ashore, sir--instantly!" "Why, uncle, I _am_ ashore." "Peace! follow me, and no more." Crouching in the water in complete secrecy, beneath the bushes and among the tall flags, my uncle now stealthily produced a hammer and wrench from one of his enormous pockets, and presently tapped the box. But the sound alarmed him.