"Jerry Rook, by the Eternal!" STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. THE DIGGERS DISMISSED. "Yes, Jerry Rook, by the Eternal!" exclaimed the old hunter, with another mocking laugh. "An' why thet, I shed like to know? Do it astonish ye to see a man by the side o' his own gurden? I reckin this chile hev got more reezun to be surprised at seem you hyar, one an' all o' ye. Who air ye anyhow?" he asked, drawing nearer to the party, and pretending to examine their faces. "Ef this chile ain't mistaken he heard Bill Buck among ye. Yes, Billee, thet's you, an' Mr Planter Brandon, an' as thar's four more o' ye, I reckin' I kin guess who the t'others air. An' what mout ye a been doin'? Spades and shovels! Ho-- ho! ye've been a grave-diggin', hev ye? Wal, I hope ye've goed deep enough. You're a gwine to berry somebidy, air ye?" There was no reply. The six excavators had thrown down their tools, and stood in sullen silence. "Maybe ye were arter the other thing. Doin' a bit of dissinterry as they call it? Wal, I hope ye foun' what ye hev been rootin' for?" Still no response. "An' so, Mr Bill Buck, you think thet Jerry Rook hez been a humbuggin' ye?" "I do," replied Buck, doggedly. "And so do I." "Yes; so all of us." "Oh! ye're agreed beout thet, air ye? Wal, ye ain't a gwine to humbug _me_ as ye've been jest now a tryin'. I warn't sech a precious fool as to put the poor young fellur's karkiss whar you could kum and scrape it up agin whenever you'd a mind. Ne'er a bit o't. I've got it safer stowed than that, an' I'll take care o't too, till ye refuse to keep to your contract. When any o' ye do that I'll then do a bit o' dissenterry myself, you see ef I don't." The discomfited excavators had once more relapsed into silence. Having nothing to say by which they could justify themselves, they made no attempt. It was no use to deny either what they had been doing, or its design. Jerry Rook saw the one, and guessed the other. "Ye 'pear very silent beout it," he continued, jeeringly. "Wal, ef you've got nothing to say, I reckin you'd better all go hum to yur beds an' sleep the thing over. Preehaps some o' ye may dream whar the body air laid. Ha--ha--ha!" They were not all silent, though their speech was not addressed to him. There was whispering among themselves, in which Bill Buck and Slaughter took the principal part; and had there been lights enough for Jerry Rook to see the faces of these two men, and the demoniac fire in their eyes, as they glanced at him, and then towards the spades, he might have changed his hilarious tune, and, perhaps, made hasty retreat into the house.