A faint crackle among the dried twigs was the only respose that came. “_Who goes there?_” cried Bart a third time, in a voice of deadly determination. “_Speak or--I’ll fire!_” At this menacing and imperative summons there came a response. It came in the shape of a figure that stole forward in front of the doorway, slowly and carefully; a figure that disclosed to their view the familiar form, and the meek, the mild, the venerable, and the well-remembered face of Captain Corbet! Greeted with one universal shout of joy. “Here we air agin, boys,” said the venerable commander, as he stepped inside, and looked all around with a scrutinizing glance. “We’ve ben together over the briny deep, an here’s the aged Corbet, right side up, in good health, and comes hopin to find you in the same.” “Corbet! Corbet! Captain Corbet! Three cheers for the commander of the great expedition to Blomidon!” And upon this there rang out three cheers as loud and as vigorous as could be produced by the united lungs of the five boys. Captain Corbet regarded them with an amiable smile. “Kind o’ campin’ out?” said he at last. “I thought by what you told me you’d be up to somethin like this, an I come down thinkin I’d find you; and here we air.” “How’s the baby, captain?” asked Bart. “In a terewly wonderful good state of health and sperits--kickin an crowin like mad; ony jest now he’s sound asleep--bless him. I’ve ben a-nussin of him ever sence I arrove, which I feel to be a perroud perrivelege, an the highest parental jy.” “That’s right; and now sit down an sing us a song.” “Wal, as to settin, I’ll set; but as to singin, I hain’t the time nor the vice. The fact is, I come down on _business_.” At this Captain Corbet’s face assumed an expression of deep and dark mystery. He had a stick in his hand about a yard long, rather slender, and somewhat dirty. He now held out this stick, looked at it for a few moments in indescribable solemnity, then closed his eyes, then shook his head, and then, putting the stick behind his back, he drew a long breath, and looked hard at the boys. “Business?” said Arthur; “what kind of business?” Captain Corbet looked all around with an air of furtive scrutiny, and then regarded the boys with more solemnity than ever. He held out his stick again, and regarded it with profound earnestness. “It’s a diskivery,” said he. “A discovery?” asked Bart, full of wonder at Captain Corbet’s very singular manner; “a discovery? What kind of a discovery?” “A diskivery,” continued Captain Corbet; “and this here stick,” he continued, holding it forth, “this here stick is the identical individooal article that’s made the diskivery to me. ’Tain’t everybody I’d tell; but you boys air different. I trust youns. Do you see that?” shaking the stick; “do you know what that air is? Guess, now.” “That?” said Bart, somewhat contemptuously. “Why, what’s that? It’s only a common stick.”