While Don was soliloquising in this way, Clarence suddenly darted off as if he had just thought of something, and making his way to one of the evergreens in the yard, drew from beneath its low, spreading branches a couple of shovels, with which he again approached the barn. Don looked on in great wonder, and, forgetting the resolution he had just formed, was about to reveal himself to his cousin, when the creaking of the gate announced a new arrival. It proved to be Godfrey Evans, who was at once taken to task by Clarence for his long delay. To Don’s amazement the two seemed as familiar as though they had long been acquainted. The question, Where had Clarence met Godfrey before, and what in the world could he have to do with that worthless man? was hardly formed in Don’s mind before it was answered, not fully, of course, but still in a way to increase his surprise a thousandfold, and to give him, besides, a pretty good idea of the situation. He overheard every word of the conversation that took place between them and found that they had met there by appointment; that it was their purpose to dig up a barrel of gold and silver that was supposed to be buried in the potato-patch; and that Godfrey was very much afraid to undertake the task, for fear that old Jordan’s ghost might appear and frighten him away. Don also inferred, from something Godfrey said, that he had already seen the ghost once, and that a second view would be altogether too much for him. After spending five minutes in discussing the matter, Clarence succeeded in infusing a little courage into Godfrey, who accepted one of the shovels and led the way towards the potato-patch. When the two had disappeared in the darkness, Don set the pitchfork back in its place, and drew a long breath--the first full inspiration he had taken for the last ten minutes. He had been so close to the conspirators all the time that he hardly dared to move a finger, for fear that he should attract their attention.