“Yes; he said just enough to make me think that the barrel is there. I pumped him to-day, and he said in so many words that Jordan hid a barrel of stuff somewhere, and hinted that none of the family ever dug it up. I heard enough to make me determined to go ahead, even if I have to dig up the whole of that potato-patch by myself. If you are ready we’ll go. I have placed a couple of shovels where I can find them.” So saying Clarence led the way toward the potato-patch, and Godfrey tremblingly followed. The shovels were found, and the two, after walking a short distance along the fence that separated the garden from the potato-patch, were about to climb over into the field where their operations were to be conducted, when Godfrey suddenly laid his hand on his companion’s arm. “Laws a massy! What’s that, Mr. Clarence?” said he, in a suppressed whisper. “What’s what?” demanded the boy, who, in spite of his boasted courage, shivered as if he had been unexpectedly plunged into a bath of ice-water. “Hark a minute!” said Godfrey. “Don’t ye hear it now?” Clarence held his breath and listened intently. CHAPTER XII. OLD JORDAN IN TROUBLE. “I do hear it,” said Clarence, as soon as he caught the sound that had attracted Godfrey’s attention. “There’s some one digging out there in the field.” “That’s jest what it is,” said Godfrey, in a trembling voice. “Don’t let’s go no further, Mr. Clarence.” “What’s the use of being afraid?” returned the boy. “It is a man, of course, for if it were anything else it couldn’t use a shovel. You are not afraid of a man, are you?” No, there was no man in that part of the country that Godfrey was afraid to meet on equal terms; and to prove it he laid down his shovel, clenched his hands and jumped up and knocked his heels together. “I don’t know what you mean by that nonsense,” said Clarence, impatiently. “If you are afraid, go home; if you are not, come along with me!”