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Ian Hamilton Finlay selections Finlay

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 SECOND EDITION

HTML5 Canvas

Steve Fulton and Jeff Fulton

HTML5 Canvas, Second Edition
by Steve Fulton and Jeff Fulton
Copyright © 2013 8bitrocket Studios. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.
O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Online editions are
also available for most titles (http://my.safaribooksonline.com). For more information, contact our corporate/
institutional sales department: 800-998-9938 or [email protected].
Editors: Simon St. Laurent and Meghan Blanchette Indexer: Lucie Haskins
Production Editor: Kara Ebrahim Cover Designer: Randy Comer
Copyeditor: nSight, Inc. Interior Designer: David Futato
Proofreader: nSight, Inc. Illustrator: Rebecca Demarest

April 2013: Second Edition

Revision History for the Second Edition:

2013-04-10: First release

See http://oreilly.com/catalog/errata.csp?isbn=9781449334987 for release details.

Nutshell Handbook, the Nutshell Handbook logo, and the O’Reilly logo are registered trademarks of O’Reilly
Media, Inc. HTML5 Canvas, Second Edition, the image of a New Zealand kaka, and related trade dress are
trademarks of O’Reilly Media, Inc.
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as
trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and O’Reilly Media, Inc., was aware of a trade‐
mark claim, the designations have been printed in caps or initial caps.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and authors assume
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained
herein.

ISBN: 978-1-449-33498-7
[LSI]
For Pop
 Table of Contents

Preface. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

1. Introduction to HTML5 Canvas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

What Is HTML5? 2
The Basic HTML5 Page 3
<!doctype html> 3
<html lang=“en”> 4
<meta charset=“UTF-8”> 4
<title>...</title> 4
A Simple HTML5 Page 4
Basic HTML We Will Use in This Book 5
<div> 5
<canvas> 7
The Document Object Model (DOM) and Canvas 7
JavaScript and Canvas 7
Where Does JavaScript Go and Why? 7
HTML5 Canvas “Hello World!” 8
Encapsulating Your JavaScript Code for Canvas 9
Adding Canvas to the HTML Page 10
Using the document Object to Reference the Canvas Element in JavaScript 11
Testing to See Whether the Browser Supports Canvas 11
Retrieving the 2D Context 12
The drawScreen() Function 12
Debugging with console.log 16
The 2D Context and the Current State 17
The HTML5 Canvas Object 18
Another Example: Guess The Letter 19
How the Game Works 19
The “Guess The Letter” Game Variables 20

v
 The initGame() Function 21
The eventKeyPressed() Function 21
The drawScreen() Function 23
Exporting Canvas to an Image 24
The Final Game Code 25
Hello World Animated Edition 25
Some Necessary Properties 26
Animation Loop 27
Alpha Transparency with the globalAlpha Property 28
Clearing and Displaying the Background 28
Updating the globalAlpha Property for Text Display 29
Drawing the Text 29
HTML5 Canvas and Accessibility: Sub Dom 31
Hit Testing Proposal 32
What’s Next? 33

2. Drawing on the Canvas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

The Basic File Setup for This Chapter 35
The Basic Rectangle Shape 36
The Canvas State 37
What’s Not Part of the State? 38
How Do We Save and Restore the Canvas State? 38
Using Paths to Create Lines 38
Starting and Ending a Path 39
The Actual Drawing 39
Examples of More Advanced Line Drawing 40
Advanced Path Methods 42
Arcs 42
Bezier Curves 44
The Canvas Clipping Region 45
Compositing on the Canvas 47
Simple Canvas Transformations 50
Rotation and Translation Transformations 50
Scale Transformations 56
Combining Scale and Rotation Transformations 57
Filling Objects with Colors and Gradients 60
Setting Basic Fill Colors 60
Filling Shapes with Gradients 61
Filling Shapes with Patterns 71
Creating Shadows on Canvas Shapes 75
Methods to Clear the Canvas 77
Simple Fill 77

vi | Table of Contents
 Resetting the Canvas Width and Height 77
Resetting the Canvas clearRect Function 77
Checking to See Whether a Point Is in the Current Path 79
Drawing a Focus Ring 80
What’s Next? 80

3. The HTML5 Canvas Text API. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

Canvas Text and CSS 81
Displaying Basic Text 82
Basic Text Display 82
Handling Basic Text in Text Arranger 82
Communicating Between HTML Forms and the Canvas 83
Using measureText 84
fillText and strokeText 85
Setting the Text Font 89
Font Size, Face, Weight, and Style Basics 89
Handling Font Size and Face in Text Arranger 89
Font Color 94
Font Baseline and Alignment 96
Text Arranger Version 2.0 101
Text and the Canvas Context 101
Global Alpha and Text 101
Global Shadows and Text 103
Text with Gradients and Patterns 106
Linear Gradients and Text 107
Radial Gradients and Text 109
Image Patterns and Text 109
Handling Gradients and Patterns in Text Arranger 110
Width, Height, Scale, and toDataURL() Revisited 114
Dynamically Resizing the Canvas 114
Dynamically Scaling the Canvas 116
The toDataURL() Method of the Canvas Object 117
Final Version of Text Arranger 119
Animated Gradients 128
The Future of Text on the Canvas 132
CSS Text 133
Making Text Accessible 133
What’s Next? 133

4. Images on the Canvas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135

The Basic File Setup for This Chapter 135
Image Basics 136

Table of Contents | vii

 Preloading Images 137
Displaying an Image on the Canvas with drawImage() 137
Resizing an Image Painted to the Canvas 139
Copying Part of an Image to the Canvas 140
Simple Cell-Based Sprite Animation 142
Creating an Animation Frame Counter 143
Creating a Timer Loop 143
Changing the Tile to Display 143
Advanced Cell-Based Animation 145
Examining the Tile Sheet 145
Creating an Animation Array 145
Choosing the Tile to Display 146
Looping Through the Tiles 146
Drawing the Tile 147
Moving the Image Across the Canvas 148
Applying Rotation Transformations to an Image 149
Canvas Transformation Basics 150
Animating a Transformed Image 153
Creating a Grid of Tiles 155
Defining a Tile Map 155
Creating a Tile Map with Tiled 156
Displaying the Map on the Canvas 158
Diving into Drawing Properties with a Large Image 161
Creating a Window for the Image 162
Drawing the Image Window 162
Changing the ViewPort Property of the Image 164
Changing the Image Source Scale 166
Panning to a Spot on the Source Image 167
Pan and Scale in the Same Operation 168
Pixel Manipulation 170
The Canvas Pixel Manipulation API 170
Application Tile Stamper 172
Copying from One Canvas to Another 179
Using Pixel Data to Detect Object Collisions 182
The Colliding Objects 183
How We Will Test Collisions 184
Checking for Intersection Between Two Objects 184
What’s Next? 190

5. Math, Physics, and Animation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191

Moving in a Straight Line 191
Moving Between Two Points: The Distance of a Line 194

viii | Table of Contents

 Moving on a Vector 199
Bouncing Off Walls 204
Bouncing a Single Ball 205
Multiple Balls Bouncing Off Walls 208
Multiple Balls Bouncing with a Dynamically Resized Canvas 214
Multiple Balls Bouncing and Colliding 219
Multiple Balls Bouncing with Friction 232
Curve and Circular Movement 239
Uniform Circular Motion 239
Moving in a Simple Spiral 243
Cubic Bezier Curve Movement 245
Moving an Image 251
Creating a Cubic Bezier Curve Loop 255
Simple Gravity, Elasticity, and Friction 259
Simple Gravity 260
Simple Gravity with a Bounce 263
Gravity with Bounce and Applied Simple Elasticity 266
Simple Gravity, Simple Elasticity, and Simple Friction 270
Easing 273
Easing Out (Landing the Ship) 273
Easing In (Taking Off) 277
Box2D and the Canvas 281
Downloading Box2dWeb 281
How Does Box2dWeb Work? 281
Box2D Hello World 282
Including the Library 282
Creating a Box2dWeb World 282
Units in Box2dWeb 283
Defining the Walls in Box2D 284
Creating Balls 285
Rendering b2debugDraw vs. Canvas Rendering 286
drawScreen() 287
Bouncing Balls Revisited 289
Translating to the Canvas 290
Interactivity with Box2D 293
Creating the Boxes 294
Rendering the Boxes 295
Adding Interactivity 296
Creating Boxes 296
Handling the Balls 297
Box2D Further Reading 303

Table of Contents | ix
 What’s Next? 303

6. Mixing HTML5 Video and Canvas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305

HTML5 Video Support 305
Theora + Vorbis = .ogg 305
H.264 + $$$ = .mp4 306
VP8 + Vorbis = .webm 306
Combining All Three 307
Converting Video Formats 307
Basic HTML5 Video Implementation 308
Plain-Vanilla Video Embed 309
Video with Controls, Loop, and Autoplay 311
Altering the Width and Height of the Video 312
Preloading Video in JavaScript 317
Video and the Canvas 321
Displaying a Video on HTML5 Canvas 321
HTML5 Video Properties 327
Video on the Canvas Examples 331
Using the currentTime Property to Create Video Events 331
Canvas Video Transformations: Rotation 335
Canvas Video Puzzle 341
Creating Video Controls on the Canvas 355
Animation Revisited: Moving Videos 364
Capturing Video with JavaScript 369
Web RTC Media Capture and Streams API 370
Example 1: Show Video 370
Example 2: Put Video on the Canvas and Take a Screenshot 373
Example 3: Create a Video Puzzle out of User-Captured Video 376
Video and Mobile 378
What’s Next? 379

7. Working with Audio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381

The Basic <audio> Tag 381
Audio Formats 382
Supported Formats 382
Audacity 382
Example: Using All Three Formats 384
Audio Tag Properties, Functions, and Events 385
Audio Functions 385
Important Audio Properties 385
Important Audio Events 386
Loading and Playing the Audio 387

x | Table of Contents
 Displaying Attributes on the Canvas 388
Playing a Sound with No Audio Tag 391
Dynamically Creating an Audio Element in JavaScript 392
Finding the Supported Audio Format 393
Playing the Sound 394
Look Ma, No Tag! 395
Creating a Canvas Audio Player 397
Creating Custom User Controls on the Canvas 398
Loading the Button Assets 399
Setting Up the Audio Player Values 400
Mouse Events 401
Sliding Play Indicator 402
Play/Pause Push Button: Hit Test Point Revisited 403
Loop/No Loop Toggle Button 406
Click-and-Drag Volume Slider 406
Case Study in Audio: Space Raiders Game 416
Why Sounds in Apps Are Different: Event Sounds 416
Iterations 416
Space Raiders Game Structure 417
Iteration #1: Playing Sounds Using a Single Object 426
Iteration #2: Creating Unlimited Dynamic Sound Objects 427
Iteration #3: Creating a Sound Pool 429
Iteration #4: Reusing Preloaded Sounds 431
Web Audio API 435
What Is the Web Audio API? 436
Space Raiders with the Web Audio API Applied 436
What’s Next? 439

8. Canvas Games: Part I. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441

Why Games in HTML5? 441
Canvas Compared to Flash 442
What Does Canvas Offer? 442
Our Basic Game HTML5 File 442
Our Game’s Design 444
Game Graphics: Drawing with Paths 444
Needed Assets 445
Using Paths to Draw the Game’s Main Character 445
Animating on the Canvas 448
Game Timer Loop 448
The Player Ship State Changes 449
Applying Transformations to Game Graphics 451
The Canvas Stack 451

Table of Contents | xi
 Game Graphic Transformations 453
Rotating the Player Ship from the Center 453
Alpha Fading the Player Ship 455
Game Object Physics and Animation 456
How Our Player Ship Will Move 456
Controlling the Player Ship with the Keyboard 458
Giving the Player Ship a Maximum Velocity 462
A Basic Game Framework 463
The Game State Machine 463
The Update/Render (Repeat) Cycle 467
The FrameRateCounter Object Prototype 469
Putting It All Together 471
Geo Blaster Game Structure 471
Geo Blaster Global Game Variables 475
The Player Object 476
Geo Blaster Game Algorithms 477
Arrays of Logical Display Objects 477
Level Knobs 479
Level and Game End 480
Awarding the Player Extra Ships 481
Applying Collision Detection 481
The Geo Blaster Basic Full Source 483
Rock Object Prototype 484
Simple A* Path Finding on a Tile Grid 486
What Is A*? 486
A* Applied to a Larger Tile Map 493
A* Taking Diagonal Moves into Account 498
A* with Node Weights 502
A* with Node Weights and Diagonals 506
Moving a Game Character Along the A* Path 514
Tanks That Pass Through Walls? 518
What’s Next? 528

9. Canvas Games: Part II. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529

Geo Blaster Extended 529
Geo Blaster Tile Sheet 530
Rendering the Other Game Objects 535
Adding Sound 541
Pooling Object Instances 546
Adding a Step Timer 548
Creating a Dynamic Tile Sheet at Runtime 550
A Simple Tile-Based Game 555

xii | Table of Contents

 Micro Tank Maze Description 556
The Tile Sheet for Our Game 556
The Playfield 558
The Player 559
The Enemy 560
The Goal 561
The Explosions 561
Turn-Based Game Flow and the State Machine 562
Simple Tile Movement Logic Overview 566
Rendering Logic Overview 568
Simple Homegrown AI Overview 569
Micro Tank Maze Complete Game Code 570
Scrolling a Tile-Based World 570
First, a Tile Sheet That Contains the Tiles We Want to Paint to the Screen 570
Second, a Two-Dimensional Array to Describe Our Game World 571
Third, Paint the Tile-Based World to the Canvas 571
Coarse Scrolling vs. Fine Scrolling 572
The Camera Object 572
The World Object 573
Fine Scrolling the Row and Column Buffers 574
Coarse Scrolling Full Code Example 580
Fine Scrolling Full Code Example 585
What’s Next? 589

10. Going Mobile!. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591

The First Application 591
The Code 592
Examining the Code for BSBingo.html 597
The Application Code 600
Scaling the Game for the Browser 601
Testing the Game on an Actual Device 606
Retro Blaster Touch 607
Mobilizing Retro Blaster Touch 610
Jumping to Full Screen 610
Touch Move Events 612
Retro Blaster Touch Complete Game Code 618
Beyond the Canvas 619
What’s Next? 619

11. Further Explorations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621

3D with WebGL 621
What Is WebGL? 621

Table of Contents | xiii

 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
When Dan heard this, he felt like throwing his hat into the air. He
hated the tooting of that horn, which was kept hung up on the limb
of a tree on the other side of the river, as he hated no other sound
in the world; and he was glad to know that he would soon hear it for
the last time.
He did not make any demonstrations of delight, however, but stole
silently away to carry the news to his father.
Joe's good fortune, and his own bright dreams of becoming Mr.
Hallet's game-warden, at fifteen dollars a month, and the best kind
of food thrown in, were uppermost in his mind, and they were the
first things he intended to speak about when his father admitted him
into the cabin; but he was so long in coming to the point that Silas
grew impatient, and did not give him an opportunity to mention his
own affairs at all.
"No matter; they'll keep," thought the boy, as the ferryman put on
his hat and went out to talk to Hobson. "Now I wish old Warren
would hurry up and go about his business, so't I can find out what
'rangements he's made with that Joe of our'n."
Dan had not long to wait. Even while he was communing with
himself in this way, Mr. Warren took his leave, first shaking Joe
warmly by the hand, and Dan lost no time in stepping to his
brother's side.
 CHAPTER VII.
BROTHERLY LOVE.

"I don't wonder that you look like you was half tickled to death," was
the way in which Dan began the conversation with his brother. "Did
you ever dream that me and you would have such amazing good
luck as has come to us this day? Now, let me tell you, it bangs me
completely. Don't it you?"
Joe did not know how to reply to this. He had seldom seen Dan in so
high spirits, and he could not imagine what he was referring to when
he spoke of the good luck that had fallen to both of them.
"Say—don't it bang you?" repeated Dan. "Ain't me and you going to
live like the richest of them this winter?"
"You and I?" said Joe, with no suspicion of the truth in his mind.
"That's what I remarked," exclaimed Dan, who could hardly keep
from dancing in the excess of his joy. "I tell you, Joe," he added,
confidentially, "if there's anything in life I take pleasure in, it's living
in the woods during the winter, when you've got a tight roof to
shelter you and plenty of firewood to burn, so't you don't have to go
through the deep snow to cut it. That's what I call living, that is."
"I don't see how you happen to know so much about it. You never
tried it."
"I know I never did; but didn't I tell you almost the very first word I
said, that I'm going to try it this winter?"
"Oh!" said Joe, who now thought he began to understand the
matter. "Are you going to be Mr. Hallet's game-warden?"
"Perzackly. You've hit centre the first time trying."
"Then I wonder why Mr. Warren did not say something to me about
it."
And there was still another thing that caused Joe to wonder,
although he made no reference to it. How did it come that Mr.
Hallet, who knew how persistently Dan broke the law in regard to
snaring birds and hares, and shooting out of season—how did it
come that he had selected this poacher to act as his game-warden?
He might as well have hired a wolf to watch his sheep.
"Now wait till I tell you," said Dan hastily. "The thing ain't quite
settled yet, 'cause I ain't had no time to run down and see old man
Hallet; but—"
"Aha!" exclaimed Joe.
"There ain't no 'aha' about it," cried Dan, who was angry in an
instant. "Wait till I tell you. I ain't been down to see old man Hallet
yet, but I'm going directly, and I'm going to say to him that if he
wants somebody to keep an eye on them birds of his'n, I'm the man
he's looking for. He'll be glad to take me, of course, 'cause if there's
any one in the whole country who knows all about a game-warden's
business, its me. But if he can't take me—if he has picked out
another man before I get a chance to speak to him—me and you will
go halvers on them hundred and twenty, won't we?"
"No, we won't," replied Joe, promptly.
"What for, won't we?" demanded Dan.
"For a good many reasons. In the first place, Mr. Warren seems to
think that he needs but one warden, and that I can do all the work
myself."
"Well, you can't, and you shan't, neither," Dan almost shouted.
And in order to show his brother how very much in earnest he was
about it, he struck up a war-dance, and called loudly for somebody
to hold him on the ground.
"And in the next place," continued Joe, who had witnessed these
ebullitions of rage often enough to know that they never ended in
anything more serious than an unnecessary expenditure of breath
and strength on Dan's part—"in the next place, every cent I make
this winter will go to mother, with the exception of the little I shall
need to clothe myself."
"I'll bet you a good hoss that it don't," roared Dan, who was so
angry that it was all he could do to keep from laying violent hands
upon his brother. "Now let me tell you what's the gospel truth, Joe
Morgan: If you don't go pardners with me in this business, I'll bust
up the whole thing. If I don't get half them hundred and twenty
dollars, you shan't have a cent to bless yourself with. I've been
kicked and slammed around till I am tired of it, and I ain't going to
ask my consent to stand it no longer."
"If you want money, go to work and earn it for yourself," said Joe.
"You can't have any of mine."
"I'll show you whether I will or not. Now, let me tell you: I'll make
more out of them birds this winter than you will. You're awful smart,
but you'll find that there are them in the world that are just as smart
as you be."
"I know what you mean by that," answered Joe, who had fully made
up his mind to see trouble with Dan. "Now let me tell you
something: If I catch you on Mr. Warren's grounds after I take
charge of them, you will wish you had stayed away, mind that. I
took this position because mother needs money, and having
accepted it, I shall look out for my employer's interests the best I
know how. But why do you go against me in this way? You ought to
help me all you can."
"Then why don't you help me?" retorted Dan.
"You don't need it. You are able to help yourself, because you have
no one else to look out for."
"Then I won't help you, neither. You want to keep a close watch over
that shanty of your'n, or the first thing you know, you will come back
to it some dark, cold night, almost froze to death, and it won't be
there."
Joe walked off without making any reply, and Dan stood shaking his
fists at him until he disappeared. Then he turned about to find
himself face to face with his father, to whom he told his story, not
forgetting to make a few artful additions, which he hoped would
have the effect of making the ferryman as angry at Joe as he was
himself.
A disinterested listener would have thought that Joe was the
meanest brother any fellow ever had, and that Dan was deserving of
better treatment at his hands.
"Now, I just want you to tell me what you think of that," said Dan,
as he brought his highly-seasoned narrative to a close. "He's a most
scandalous stingy chap, that Joe of our'n is. He wants to keep his
good things all to himself. And—would you believe it, pap, if I didn't
tell you?—he said he would as soon shoot your dog or mine as look
at 'em, and that if we come fooling around where he was, he'd have
us tooken up, sure pop."
Silas Morgan's eyes flashed, and an angry scowl settled on his
swarthy face.
Dan was succeeding famously in his efforts to arouse his father's ire
against the unoffending Joe—at least he thought so—and he hoped
to increase it until it broke out into some violent demonstration.
"Them's his very words, pap," continued Dan, with unblushing
mendacity. "Since he took up with that rich man awhile ago, he has
outgrowed his clothes, and me and you ain't good enough for him.
Me and Joe could have had just the nicest kind of times up there in
the woods, and by doing a little extry work on the sly, we could have
snared enough of old man Warren's birds, and Hal—um!"
Dan caught his breath just in time. He was about to say that he and
Joe could have snared enough of Mr. Warren's birds and Hallet's to
run the amount of their joint earnings up to two hundred dollars; but
he suddenly remembered that his father was not yet aware that Mr.
Hallet's covers had been freshly stocked, and that that was a matter
that was to be kept from his knowledge, so that Dan could have the
field to himself.
But the ferryman was quick to catch some things, if he was dull in
comprehending others, and Dan had inadvertently given him an idea
to ponder over at his leisure.
"But then I don't care for such trifling things as birds any more," said
Silas to himself. "If Hallet has been fooling away his money for more
pa'tridges, Dan can have the fun of shooting 'em, if he wants it; and
while he is tramping around through the cold looking for 'em, I'll be
snug and warm at home, living like a lord on the money I took out
of that cave up there in the mountings. What was you saying,
Dannie?"
"I said that me and Joe could have made right smart by doing a little
trapping on the quiet," answered Dan. "But he wouldn't hear to my
going up there to live with him. What's grub enough for one is grub
enough for two, and I could have had piles of things that come from
old man Warren's table, and never cost you a red cent the whole
winter. More than that, being on the ground all the while, it wouldn't
be no trouble at all for me to knock over one of them deer now and
then, and that would save you from buying so much bacon; but that
mean Joe of our'n he wouldn't hear to it, and now I'm going to
knock all his 'rangements higher'n the moon."
"What be you going to do, Dannie?" Silas asked, in a voice so calm
and steady that the boy backed off a step or two and looked at him
suspiciously.
Was his father about to side with Joe? Dan was really afraid of it,
and his voice did not have that resolute ring in it when he answered:
"I'm going to set some snares up there where Joe won't never think
of looking for them, and by the time Christmas gets here I'll have
every one of them English birds in the market and sold for cash."
The ferryman thrust one hand deep into his pocket, and shook the
other menacingly at Dan.
"Look a-here, son," said he, in a tone which he never assumed
unless he meant that his words should carry weight with them, "you
just keep away from old man Warren's woods, and let them English
birds be. Are you listening to your pap?"
"What for?" Dan almost gasped.
"'Cause why; that's what for," was the not very satisfactory answer.
"You want to pay right smart heed to what I'm saying to you, 'cause
if you don't, I'll wear a hickory out over your back, big as you think
you be."
"Well, if this ain't a trifle the beatenest thing I ever heard of, I don't
want a cent," began Dan, who was utterly amazed. "Do you want
them—that rich feller to have all the fine shooting to himself?"
"That ain't what I'm thinking about just now," replied the ferryman.
"I want Joe to earn them hundred and twenty dollars; see the p'int?"
"Not all of it?" exclaimed Dan.
"Yes, every cent."
"Can't I make him go pardners with me?"
"No, you can't. I want Joe to have the handling of it all."
"Then you won't never see none of it; you can bet high on that."
"Yes, I reckon I'll see the whole of it. You and Joe ain't twenty-one
year old yet, and the law gives me the right to take every cent you
make."
For a moment Dan stood speechless with rage and astonishment;
but quickly recovering the use of his tongue, he squared himself for
a fight, and demanded furiously:
"And is that the reason you never give me a red for breaking my
back with that ferry? Whoop! hold me on the ground, somebody!"
"If I had a good hickory in my hands, I reckon I could very soon
make you willing to hold yourself on the ground," said his father,
calmly.
"Whoop!" yelled Dan, jumping into the air, and knocking his heels
together. "This bangs me; don't it you? The men who was here just
now said you was one nuisance, and Hobson was another; and I am
so glad that the business is clean busted up, that—"
Silas suddenly thrust out one of his long arms, but his fingers closed
upon the empty air instead of upon Dan's collar. The boy escaped his
grasp by ducking his head like a flash, and then he straightened up
and took to his heels.
 CHAPTER VIII.
JOE'S PLANS IN DANGER.

Silas Morgan made no attempt at pursuit, for he had learned by

experience that he could not hold his own with Dan in a foot-race;
but he knew how to bide his time.
"Never mind, son," he shouted. "I'll catch you to-night after you
have gone to bed."
"These threatening words arrested Dan's headlong flight, and he
stopped to shout back:
"You just lay an ugly hand onto me, and it'll be worse for you and
them setter dogs that you've got shut up in the wood-shed. I know
well enough that nobody ever give 'em to you, and that that man
with the long black whiskers who was here last year would be willing
to give something handsome—"
The ferryman couldn't stand it any longer, for the boy was getting
too near the truth to suit him. He began looking about on the
ground for something to throw at him; whereupon Dan turned and
took to his heels again, and quickly disappeared around the corner
of the cabin.
"I wish that black-whiskered man had them setter dogs, and that I
was shet of them," muttered Silas, as he walked slowly up the bank.
"I did think that mebbe I could get a big reward for giving them
back; but I don't care for such things now. The money that's hid in
the cave is what I'm thinking of these times."
The ferryman was left to his own devices for the rest of the day; for
Joe, highly elated over his unexpected fortune, had gone to meet his
mother, so that he might tell her the good news without being
overheard by any of the rest of the family, and Dan was on his way
to Mr. Hallet's to offer him his services as game-warden.
But Silas was glad to be alone at this particular time, for he had
something mysterious and exciting to think about—a cave in the
mountains that had an abundance of treasure in it. He had long
looked forward to something of this sort, for he had often dreamed
about it; and when he read in a torn newspaper, which came from
the store wrapped around one of his wife's bundles, that some
workmen, while digging for the foundations of a public building in a
distant city, had come upon an earthen jar that was filled to the brim
with American and Mexican coins of ancient date—when he read
this, Silas took it as an omen that his bright dreams of acquiring
wealth without labor were on the eve of being realized.
The man's first care was to let out the dogs and unhitch the horse
from the wood-rack, and his second to hunt up a shady spot on the
bank and look for the letter which he had stowed away in his pocket.
But it was not to be found. The ferryman's clothes, like all the other
things that belonged to him, were sadly in need of repairs, and
when he went to shut up the dogs, the letter had worked its way
through his pocket, down the leg of his trowsers, and fallen to the
ground in front of the wood-shed door, where it lay until Dan came
along and picked it up.
Meanwhile Joe was strolling leisurely along the road in the direction
from which he knew his mother would come, when her day's work
was over.
"She will be glad to learn that she has done her last washing and
scrubbing for other folks," the boy kept saying to himself. "When
winter comes, and the roads are blocked with drifts, she can sit
down in front of a warm fire and stay there, instead of wading
through the deep snow to earn a dollar. I am in a position to take
care of her now, and I could do it easy enough if father and Dan
would only let me alone. They call me stingy because I will not share
my hard earnings with them; but they never think of sharing with
me, nor did I ever see one of them give mother anything. On the
contrary, if they know that she's got a dime or two saved up for a
rainy day, they never give her a minute's peace till they get it for
themselves. Now, is there any way I can work it so that mother can
have everything she wants, and yet be able to say that she hasn't
got a cent in the house?"
While Joe was revolving this problem in his mind, he heard a familiar
bark behind him, and faced about to see his brother Dan
approaching on a dog-trot. He was followed by the only friend and
companion he had in the world—a little black cur, which no self-
respecting boy would have accepted as a gift.
But mean and insignificant as he looked, Bony was of great use to
his master. He was the best coon, grouse and squirrel dog in the
country for miles around, and it was by his aid that Dan earned
money to buy his clothes and ammunition. Bony got more kicks than
caresses in return for his services, but that did not seem to lessen
his affection for Dan.
"I allowed that I knew where you was gone, and that I'd come up
with you directly," said the latter, as soon as he arrived within
speaking distance. "Say, Joe, have you thought over that little plan
of mine?"
Joe replied that he had not.
"Then, why don't you think it over?" continued Dan. "Of course, I
don't expect you to go pardners with me for nothing. I've got my
consent to do all I can to help you. I'll even agree to cut the wood,
cook the grub, keep the shanty in order, and do all the rest of the
mean work, while you are taking your ease or looking after the
birds. All you've got to do is to say the word, and me and you will
have the finest kind of times this winter."
But Joe didn't say the word. In fact, he did not say anything, and, of
course, his silence made Dan angry again. The latter was bound to
handle at least a portion of his brother's wages, and he did not care
what course he took to accomplish his object.
"You ain't forgot what I told you awhile back, I reckon, have you?"
said Dan, with suppressed fury.
"No, I haven't forgotten it. I can recall everything you said to me."
"Then, why don't you pay some heed to it? Do you want to see your
business busted up? Look a here, Joe Morgan: You say you are
going to give all that there money to mam. If you do, I'll have some
of it in spite of you. I'll tell mam that I want my share, and she'll
hand it over without no words, 'cause she knows well enough that
I'll turn the house out doors if she don't do as I say. She's heard me
calling for somebody to hold me on the ground, and she don't like to
see me that way, 'cause she knows I'm mad."
"I know that you have worried a good deal of money out of mother,
first and last," said Joe, angrily, "but you needn't think you can
frighten her into giving you any of mine, because she won't have
any."
"You stingy, good-for-nothing scamp! you're going back on your
mam, are you?" shouted Dan, who could scarcely believe that he
was not dreaming. "I never thought that of you. You're going to
have the softest kind of a job all winter, and make stacks and piles
of money, and never give a cent of it to mam, be you?"
"Mother will have everything she wants, but still she will not touch a
cent of my earnings," answered Joe, calmly.
"Whoop! Hold me on the ground, somebody!" yelled Dan, striking up
his war dance. "Then how'll mam get the things she wants?"
"On a written order, and in no other way."
"Who'll give that there order?"
"Mr. Warren, whom I shall ask to act as my banker. I've got to do
something to keep you from bothering the life out of mother, and
that is what I have decided upon."
"Whoop!" shouted Dan again. "Pap won't agree to no such bargain
as that there, I bet you, and neither will I."
"What has father got to say about my business?"
"He's got a good deal to say about it, the first thing you know,"
answered Dan, with a triumphant air.
His only object in hastening on to overtake his brother was that he
might torment him by calling his attention to a point of law that Joe
had never thought of before.
"You ain't twenty-one year old yet, my fine feller, and pap's got the
right to make you hand over every red cent you earn. He told me so;
and he furder said that he was going to take the last dollar of them
hundred and twenty that you are going to make this winter. So
there, now. I told you that there was them in the world that's just as
smart as you think you be, and me and pap are the fellers. He's a
mighty hard old chap to get the better of, pap is, and so be I. You
can't do it nohow you fix it."
It looked that way, sure enough, thought Joe, who was greatly
surprised and bewildered.
He knew very well that his father could take his earnings, if he were
mean enough to do it, but, as we have said, the matter had never
been brought home to him before. He had always given his money
to his mother, and Silas had never raised any objection to it.
The reason was because he did not think of it, and besides, the
amounts were too small to do him any good; they were not worth
the rumpus which the ferryman knew would be raised about his ears
if he interfered and tried to turn Joe's earnings into his own pocket.
But things were different now. The young game-warden's
prospective wages amounted to a goodly sum in the aggregate, and
Silas was resolved to "turn over a new leaf," and assert his authority
as head of the house.
Joe, on the other hand, was fully determined that his mother alone
should profit by his winter's work, and as he was a resolute fellow,
and as fearless as a boy could be, it was hard to tell how the matter
was destined to end. But there was trouble in store for him; there
could be no doubt about that.
"What do you say now?" asked Dan, who had little difficulty in
reading the thoughts that were passing through his brother's mind,
they showed so plainly on his face. "You're thinking of kicking agin
me and pap, but I tell you that you'd best not do it. Will you be
sensible and go pardners, or have your business busted up?"
"Neither," answered Joe, turning so fiercely upon his persecutor that
the latter recoiled a step or two. "Now, if you don't let me alone, I
will go to Mr. Warren and see if he can find means to make you."
"Sho!" said Dan, with a grin, "you don't mean it?"
"Yes, I do. It may surprise you to know that you have put yourself in
danger of being locked up."
"Not much, I ain't," said Dan, confidently. "I ain't done a single thing
yet."
"But you have made threats, and Mr. Warren could have you put
under bonds."
"He'd have lots of fun trying that," replied Dan, who laughed loudly
at the idea of such a thing. "Why, man, I ain't got none."
"Of course you haven't, and you couldn't furnish them either, so you
would have to go to jail."
"Great Moses!" Dan managed to ejaculate.
There was no grin on his face now, nor even the sign of one. He was
astonished as well as frightened.
It had never occurred to him that his brother could invoke the law to
protect him, but he saw it plainly enough now, and he knew by the
way Joe looked at him that he had been crowded just about as far
as he intended to go.
When the latter moved on down the road, Dan made no attempt to
stop him. He backed toward a log, sat down on it, and kept his eyes
fastened upon Joe until a bend in the road hid him from view.
 CHAPTER IX.
VOLUNTEERS.

"I don't know what answer to make you, boys. I have no desire to
interfere with your pleasures, and I think you have always found me
ready to listen to any reasonable proposition; but this latest scheme
of yours looks to me to be a little—you know. I don't believe that
Bob's father will consent to it."
"Suppose you give your consent, and then we will see what we can
do with Bob's father. If we can say that you are willing, he'll come to
terms without any coaxing."
"I don't see what objection there can be to it. We can't get into
mischief up there in the mountains, and we'll promise to study hard
every spare minute we get. There!"
"And be fully prepared to go on with our class when the spring term
begins. Now!"
The first speaker was Mr. Hallet, who leaned back in his easy-chair
and twirled his eye-glasses around his finger, while he looked at the
two uneasy, mischief-loving boys who stood before him.
Tom Hallet was his nephew and ward, and Bob Emerson was the son
of an old school-friend who lived in Bellville, ten miles away.
Bob, who was a fine, manly fellow, was a great favorite with both
uncle and nephew, and had a standing invitation to spend all his
vacations with them at their comfortable home among the
Summerdale hills.
To quote from Bob, Mr. Hallet's house was eminently a place for a
tired school-boy to get away to. The fishing in the lake, and in the
clear, dancing streams that emptied into it, was fine; young squirrels
were always abundant after the first of August; and when
September came, the law was "off" on grouse, wild turkeys and
deer. Hares and 'coons were plenty, and Tom's little beagle knew
right where to go to find them. Better than all, according to the
boys' way of thinking, Mr. Hallet was a jolly old bachelor, who
thoroughly enjoyed life in a quiet way, and who meant that every
one around him should do the same.
Taking all these things into consideration, it was little wonder that
Bob Emerson looked forward to his yearly "outings" with the liveliest
anticipations of pleasure.
The Summerdale hills, in days gone by, had been a hunter's
paradise; but, sad to relate, their glory was fast passing away, like
that of many another place which had once been noted for the
abundance of its game and fish.
Mr. Warren, to use his own language, had been foolish enough to
build a hotel at the Beach, and to connect it with Bellville by a stage
route. This brought an influx of strangers, some of whom called
themselves sportsmen, who did more to depopulate the woods and
streams than Silas Morgan, Hobson, and a few others of that ilk,
could have accomplished in a year's steady shooting and angling.
Their advent gave rise to a class of men who had never before been
known in that region—to wit, guides. There were some good and
honest ones among them, of course; but, as a rule, they were a
shiftless, lawless class—men who lived from hand to mouth, and
who looked upon game laws as so many infringements of their
rights, which were to be defied and resisted in any way they could
think of.
Up to the time the hotel was built, these men lived in utter
ignorance of the fact that there were laws in force which prohibited
hunting and fishing at certain seasons of the year; but one year the
District Game Protector came up on the stage to look into things,
and when he went back to Bellville he took with him a guide and his
employer, whom he had caught in the act of shooting deer, when the
law said that they should not be molested.
This unexpected interference with their bread and butter astonished
and enraged the rest of the guides, who at once held an indignation
meeting, and resolved that they would not submit to any such
outrageous things as game laws, in the making of which their
opinions and desires had not been consulted.
They boldly declared that they would continue to hunt and fish
whenever they felt like it, and any officer who came to the hills to
stop them would be likely to get himself into business.
A few of the residents, including Mr. Warren and Mr. Hallet, had tried
hard to bring about a better state of things.
They had gone to the expense of restocking their almost tenantless
woods, and had been untiring in their efforts to have every poacher
and law-breaker arrested and punished for his misdeeds; but all they
had succeeded in doing thus far was to call down upon their heads
the hearty maledictions of the whole ruffianly crew, who owed them
a grudge and only awaited a favorable opportunity to pay it.
This was the way things stood on the morning that Tom Hallet,
accompanied by his friend Bob, presented himself before his uncle,
with the request that he would permit them to keep an eye on his
English partridges and quails during the ensuing winter—in other
words, that he would empower them to act as his game-wardens.
Mr. Hallet was not at all surprised, for the boys had sprung so many
"hare-brained schemes" on him, that he was ready for anything; but
still he took a few minutes in which to consider the proposition
before he made them any reply.
"What in the world put that notion into your heads, anyway?" said
Mr. Hallet, continuing the conversation which we have so
unceremoniously interrupted. "Is it simply an excuse to get out of
school for the winter?"
The boys indignantly denied that they had any idea of such a thing.
They liked their school and everything connected with it; but they
thought it would be fun to spend a few months in the woods. And
since Uncle Hallet would have to employ somebody to act as game-
warden, or run the risk of having all his costly birds killed by
trespassers, why couldn't he employ them as well as any one else?
"Well, you two do think up the queerest ways for having fun that I
even heard of," said Mr. Hallet. "I know something about camp-life,
and you don't; and I tell you—"
"Why, Uncle," exclaimed Tom, "haven't we already spent a whole
week in camp since Bob came up here?"
"A whole week!" repeated Mr. Hallet. "Yes, and it tired you out, and
you were glad enough to get home. I know that 'camping out' looks
very well on paper, but I tell you that it is the hardest kind of work,
even for a lazy person, to say nothing of a couple of uneasy
youngsters, who can't keep still for five minutes at a time to save
their lives. Besides, how do I know that you wouldn't shoot some of
my blue-headed birds, as Morgan calls them?"
"Don't you suppose that we know a ruffed grouse from an English
partridge or quail?" demanded Tom. "We are not so liable to make
mistakes in that regard as others might be. Who is Mr. Warren going
to hire for his warden?"
"I believe he has gone up to Morgan's to-day to speak to Joe about
it."
"I don't know how that will work," said Bob, reflectively. "Joe is all
right, but his father and brother are not, and I am afraid they will
make trouble for him."
"I thought of that, and so did Warren," answered Mr. Hallet, "and it
is a point that you two would do well to consider before you insist on
going into the mountains this winter. I am told that Hobson is furious
over the opening of the new road, and that he and a few of his
friends have threatened to burn the houses Warren and I built up
there in the woods, and to drive out anybody we may put there to
act as game-wardens."
When Tom and Bob heard this, they exchanged glances that were
full of meaning.
Uncle Hallet's words showed them that there was a prospect for
excitement during the coming winter, and the knowledge of this fact
made them all the more determined to carry their point.
"Oh, you needn't look at each other in that way," said Mr. Hallet,
with a laugh. "I know what you are thinking about, and I have no
notion of allowing you to do something to get these poachers and
law-breakers down on you. However I am going to the village
directly, and perhaps I'll drop in and see what Bob's father thinks
about it."
"Don't forget to tell him that we have your full and free consent,"
began Tom.
"But I haven't given it," interrupted Mr. Hallet, adjusting his eye-
glasses across the bridge of his nose and reaching for his paper.
"And that we shall go along with all our lessons just as fast as the
boys in school will," chimed in Bob.
"I'll not forget it; but I shall be much surprised at your father if he
believes it."
Uncle Hallet resumed his reading, and the boys, taking this as a hint
that he had said all he had to say on the subject, put on their hats
and left the room.
"It's all right, Bob," said Tom, gleefully.
"I am sure of it," replied Bob. "We've got Uncle Hallet on our side,
and it will be no trouble for him to talk father over. Now let's finish
that letter to Mr. Morgan, and then go up and put it in his wood-
pile."
So saying, Bob went up the stairs three at a jump, Tom following
close at his heels.
 CHAPTER X.
WHY THE LETTER WAS WRITTEN.

When the boys reached the landing at the head of the stairs, they
turned into Tom's room, the door of which stood invitingly open.
Bob seated himself at a table and picked up a pen, while Tom leaned
over his shoulder and fastened his eyes upon the unfinished letter, to
which reference was made at the close of the last chapter.
"Let's see—how far did we get?" said the latter. "I believe we were
talking about a bank they were supposed to have robbed
somewhere in California. Well, say that they took a pile of money—
seventy thousand dollars out of it. But I say, Bob! That's awful bad
printing. I don't know whether Silas can make out to read it or not."
"Then let him get somebody to help him," answered Bob. "I can't be
expected to furnish him with the key, after going to so much trouble
to write the letter."
"But if he can't read it, what use will it be to him?" asked Tom.
"Probably he's got friends who can spell it out for him, and I'm sure
I don't care how much publicity he gives it. 'And there we took out
seventy thousand dollars,'" said Bob. "Go on; what next? They went
to Canada after that, didn't they? There is where all the crooks go
these days."
"Put it down, anyway. 'So we went to Canady (be careful about the
spelling) and staid there till the country got too hot for us.' That
reads all right," said Tom, throwing himself into the big rocking-chair,
and wondering, like the minister in the "One-Hoss Shay," what the
Moses should come next. "Don't forget to say something about the
'hant' who guards the treasure in the cave."
"Can't you wait till I come to the cave?" replied Bob, who could not
print the letter as fast as his friend could think up things to put into
it. "I don't altogether approve of this ghost business, anyway. I am
afraid it will scare the old fellow so badly that he will make no
attempt to find the treasure that is concealed in the cave."
"Don't you worry about that," Tom replied. "All we've got to do is to
word the letter so that he will believe the money is really there, and
he will go after it, even if he knew that he would have to face all the
ghosts that ever haunted the Summerdale hills; and their name is
legion, if there is any faith to be put in the stories I have heard."
"I say, Tom," exclaimed Bob, throwing down his pen and settling-
back in his chair, "wouldn't it be a joke if some of those same ghosts
should take it into their heads to visit us during the winter? It must
be lonely up there in the mountains, when the roads are blocked
with drifts, and all communication with the outside world is cut off,
and wouldn't we feel funny if we should hear something go this way
some dark and stormy night—b-r-r-r?"
Here Bob uttered a hollow groan, drew his head down between his
shoulders, and tried to shiver and look frightened.
"No doubt it would; but we shan't hear anything go this way—b-r-r-
r," replied Tom, imitating Bob's groan as nearly as he could. "Now I
think you had better go on with that letter, and I will draw the map
that is to guide him in his search for the robbers' cave and plunder.
We've wasted a good hour and a half already; and if we don't hurry
up, we shan't be able to give him the letter to-day. Let me think a
moment! There's a deep gorge about a quarter of a mile from
Morgan's wood-pile, and I don't believe it has ever been explored.
That would be a good place to put the cave, wouldn't it?"
Bob said he thought it would, and went on with his writing, while
Tom hunted up a piece of paper and began drawing the map.
Bob pronounced it perfect when his friend presented it for his
inspection, and indeed it ought to have been. There was no one in
the neighborhood who was better acquainted with the hills than
Silas Morgan, and if the map had guided him to a place that really
had no existence, except in Tom's imagination, he would have
known in a minute that somebody was trying to play a trick upon
him.
The letter was finished at last, to the entire satisfaction of both the
boys, and the next thing was to put it where the man for whom it
was intended would be sure to find it.
Do you ask what it was that suggested to them the idea of making
the shiftless and ignorant ferryman the victim of one of their
practical jokes?
Simply an accident, coupled with the want of something to do, and
their innate propensity to get fun out of everything that came in
their way.
On the previous day they made it their business to stand guard over
the English partridges and quails which Uncle Hallet had "turned
down" in his wood-lot, and it so happened that they stopped to eat
their lunch within a short distance of Silas Morgan's wood-pile, but
out of sight of it. They heard the creaking of the ferryman's old
wagon, as his aged and infirm beast pulled it laboriously up the
steep mountain-side, and not long afterward the setters, which
accompanied Silas, wherever he went, spied out their resting-place.
But the animals did not give tongue, as they would no doubt have
done if the boys had been utter strangers to them. They thankfully
ate the bits of cracker and broiled squirrel that were tossed to them,
and then went back to wait for Silas.
"That man has no more right to those valuable dogs than I have,"
said Bob. "They're worth a hundred dollars apiece, and no one ever
gave a guide that much money in return for a single day's woodcock
shooting. Who is he talking to, I wonder?"
"To no one," answered Tom. "He likes to talk to a sensible man, and
he likes to hear a sensible man talk; consequently, he has a good
deal to say to Silas Morgan. That's the fellow he is talking to."
And so it proved. The ferryman was engaged in an animated
conversation with the ferryman, asking and answering the questions
himself, and so fully was his mind occupied with other matters, that
it never occurred to him that possibly his words might be falling
upon ears for which they were not intended.
Tom and his companion had no desire to play the part of
eavesdroppers. They were not at all interested in what Silas was
saying to himself—at least they thought so; but it turned out
otherwise.
Having finished their lunch, they began making preparations to set
out for home; but in the meantime Silas reached the wood-pile, and,
leaning heavily upon his wagon, he gave utterance to his thoughts in
much the same words as those we used at the beginning of this
story.
"I just know that I wasn't born to do no such mean work as I've
been called to do all my life," declared Silas, stooping over, and
throwing the perspiration from his forehead with his bent finger. "I
can't get my consent to slave and toil in this way much longer, while
there are folks all around me who never do a hand's turn. They can
loaf around and take their ease from morning till night, while I—wait
till I tell you. Such things ain't right, and I won't stand it much
longer. The other night I dreamed of that robber's cave, with piles of
gold and greenbacks into it, and yesterday I read about the finding
of that earthen crock that was plumb full of money; so't I know I
shall be a rich man some day. 'Pears to me that day isn't so very far
off, neither. If I should come up here some time and find a letter
telling me where there was a robber's cave with stacks and piles of
money in it, I shouldn't be at all astonished; would you?"
"Not in the least," whispered Bob, giving his friend a prod in the ribs
with his elbow; whereupon Tom laid his finger by the side of his
nose and winked first one eye and then the other, to show that he
fully understood Bob.
"Stranger things than that have happened," continued Silas, in a
voice that was plainly audible to the two boys behind the
evergreens, "and I don't see why it can't happen to me as well as to
anybody else. Wouldn't that be a joyful day to me, though? I'd bust
up that flat the very first thing I did, and tell the fellers that tooted
the horn that I was done being servant for them or anybody else.
No, I wouldn't do that, either," added Silas, after reflecting a minute.
"I'd give it to Dan and Joe to make a living with, and then I wouldn't
have to spend any of my fortune on their grub and clothes."
"What a stingy old hulks he is!" whispered Bob, as the ferryman took
a reluctant step toward the wood-pile. "I say, Tom, don't you think
there is a robber's cave about here somewhere? I should think there
ought to be, with so many ghosts hanging around. It don't look to
me as though they could be here for nothing."
"That's what I think," replied Tom, in the same cautious whisper. "I
shouldn't wonder a bit if there was a freebooter's stronghold
somewhere in these mountains."
"With lots of money in it?" continued Bob.
"Piles of it," said Tom. "As much as there is in the treasury at
Washington."
Bob turned toward his friend with a look of indignant astonishment
on his face.
"And you knew it all the time, and never told Silas about it!" he
exclaimed. "Can't you see how badly he wants it, and how confident
he is that he is going to get it? You ought to have attended to it long
ago."
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