The day was a long and dreary one to him. He played a few times on his flute while his cousin Lucy accompanied him on the piano; spent an hour or two in walking about the plantation; listened patiently, but without much interest, while Don and Bert talked of the various exciting and amusing incidents that had happened in the neighborhood during the war; and as soon as night came and he could find an opportunity to do so, he slipped away by himself. He wanted to be alone, so that he could think over the plans he had formed for bringing his visit to a speedy termination, and make up his mind what sort of a letter he would write to his mother. “There’s no fun to be seen here,” said Clarence, as he drew a cigar from one pocket and a match-safe from another. “I can see that with half an eye, and I can’t endure the thought of staying here for six long months. I’d do almost anything to raise money enough to take me away from here this very night. Now, what can I say to mother, in the letter I intend to write to her before I go to bed, that will induce her to send me fifty dollars without an hour’s delay?” As Clarence asked himself this question he lighted his cigar, and finding that a fence ran across his path, and that he was at such a distance from the house that he could enjoy his smoke without fear of interruption, he leaned on the top rail and went off into a reverie, from which he was aroused a few minutes later by the sound of voices and footsteps. Hastily taking his cigar from his mouth and putting it behind him, he looked up and saw a couple of figures advancing toward him along the fence. It was so dark that he could not see who they were, but it flashed upon him that perhaps they were Don and Bert, who were out searching for him. With an exclamation indicative of great annoyance and vexation, he was about to throw away his cigar, when some words spoken in a suppressed tone of voice fell upon his ear and arrested his hand. By this time the approaching figures were so close to him that Clarence made out that they were a man and a boy; and from their conversation he learned that they had come there to dig up a barrel. Clarence caught every word they uttered, and could scarcely restrain his astonishment when he heard the man say: “He done a good thing fur us, ole Jordan did, when he run away without tellin’ his missus whar that bar’l was hid. Now, Dannie, let’s try right here fust. Ye begin, kase yer the youngest, an’ I’ll set down an’ smoke an’ watch ye till yer tired. Now, bar in mind that yer workin’ fur eighty thousand dollars! Throw it out with the fust shovelful, an’ I’ll give ye half!”