in conversation with any one; and I have never learned whether or not he ever afterwards visited Rindout. I know he was wealthy; but then he worked hard and saved his earnings, and I do not believe he increased his store from the hidden chests on Money Island. The story I have now written he told to my grandfather in his old age, and, upon relating it, he urged the greatest caution in his use of it.

Twice my grandfather made unsuccessful efforts to find the chests. He urged that I, his grandchild, should keep the knowledge of the treasure as a family heritage; but that I might do as I liked about it. After giving the subject very careful thought, I have now given up the secret of Money Island, and have not withheld a single detail which was told me. Of course, nearly a century and a half has elapsed since the precious booty was hidden. The story, therefore, is old, but I do not believe it has suffered from age. Captain Kidd was executed in London not long after the hiding of the treasure, and his associates gave up their old calling; and probably no one has since disturbed the precious chests.

Now, as to when I first heard Mr. Landstone's story. It was when I was a boy in the early forties, and the events connected with its telling have modified its conclusion, as will presently be seen. I have heretofore spoken very little of the subject to any one; and when I have done so at all, it has been to one or two intimate friends as a matter of particular confidence. In my old age, however, I am going to let my tale forsake its hiding-place and become public property.

My parents owned a summer home on Greenville Sound not far from Money Island. To us children it was the very heart of life. The best pleasure of the year was confined to the four months spent there from the first of June to the last day of September. We rowed, sailed, fished, swam, hunted, frolicked, and ran the whole gamut of youthful delights. Those good days are yet vivid in memory; and it is a matter of regret with me that my grandchildren—as fine boys and girls as ever lived—cannot have the same wild, wholesome fun at the Sound as fell to my lot when I was a boy.

The time that I now speak of, however, was about the middle of May, the balmy month of soft breezes and bright flowers. I had been particularly studious in school, and my father agreed to let me spend three days at the Sound in company with a young friend. We arranged our food supply, took the old family rockaway, and set out early in the morning, as happy a pair of boys as ever started on a project of pleasure.

After spending an hour or two at the Sound house, arranging our fishing tackle and looking after the boats, which had been hauled up for the winter, we started out on a sail towards the beach. It was a fine day for sailing, and the breeze bore us away as smoothly and quickly as if we had been in a balloon. As we passed Money Island, we observed a boat moored on the south side, and tried to locate the occupants; but we could see nobody, and concluded that it belonged to a fishing party who had, for some reason, left the boat tied there.

We sailed on; and when we had gone perhaps half a mile away. I happened to turn around, and was surprised to see two men stealthily embarking in the boat with what appeared to be shovels and rods of some kind. This sight was too much for our youthful imagination. So we decided at once to change our course, and essayed to follow at a distance the movements of the other boat. This we had no difficulty in doing; and we afterwards learned that we were successful in our efforts to avoid the suspicion of purposely following it.

The men sailed down the Sound a short distance to the south, and made for the shore in a little cove at a somewhat secluded place.

We were familiar with the locality, and decided to wait until later for a closer observation. Accordingly, we bore once again toward the beach, and enjoyed an hour watching the breakers roll upon the shore, and in picking up curios, such as are always to be found upon the sea beach.

Upon our return, we passed close to the little cove into which the boat had gone, and could readily discern through the trees a tent not far inland; in front of which were seated the two strangers, watching a pot hung over a fire made upon the ground. This excited an additional flutter of wonderment with us. Indeed, what we had seen, coupled with the current tradition regarding Money Island, soon wrought us up into a fever of excitement; for it was very suggestive of a search for the treasure on the island.

I had heard from my early childhood that Captain Kidd, the historic and lordly pirate, who reigned supreme upon the high seas during the seventeenth century, was supposed to have buried some of his booty on Money Island. Everybody was familiar with the tradition; and I doubt if there is, even now, a single person reared in the town of Wilmington, of in the vicinity of the Sound, who has not likewise been told the same indefinite story about the little island. But the presence of these two strangers, and their somewhat mysterious conduct, gave the tradition a touch of reality such as it could never have otherwise had.

We concluded that these men had evidently some positive information on the subject, and were showing their confidence in that information by prosecuting a search for the hidden treasure, at much trouble and expense. This was clear to us, and we talked the matter over that night with eager interest. We surmised every possible case that might have furnished the strange visitors with a working clue to the discovery of the treasure. Speculation ran high. But there was one thing that we became agreed upon, and that was, to become, if possible, parties to the secret enterprise. We pondered with boys' shrewdness how this should be done. This we could not decide upon; but we determined to play a venture toward the desired end. The attitude of innocent curiosity seemed best suited to our purpose. So we planned to draw up at Money Island in the morning if we observed that the men were there; and to approach them in an unsuspicious manner, as if we had just happened to stop at the Island without any definite motive. This should work as a capital ruse, and, we felt confident, it would initiate a connection on our part with the mysterious search.

That point settled, we concluded to investigate the tent and its occupants as well as we might under the cover of darkness, and we promptly set out upon that project. We approached within a hundred feet of the tent, and saw the men still sitting in the light of the fire at the tent door; but there was no discovery of importance. They were merely talking quietly and carelessly about some ship that one of them seemed to be interested in. We could hear their conversation distinctly, and we were also able to take a good observation of their appearance.

One of them was a man upwards of sixty, of robust build and gray hair and beard. He had a kind face, which bore the aspect of one accustomed only to the quieter walks of life, unfamiliar with adventure and ill-suited to an enterprise such as they were now apparently engaged upon. The other man had a weather-beaten face with a long nose, and a swagger of manner which betokened the sailor. This, we afterwards learned, had been his occupation. We watched them for about an hour; but finally withdrew in the hope of making a better acquaintance in the morning.

Soon after daylight we began eagerly to watch for the boat, which appeared around a bend in the Sound after the lapse of an hour or so and headed straight for the Island. We loitered about the yard a little while longer, and then made ready our yacht without any appearance of haste.

On setting sail, we made for the beach; but, upon reaching there, turned back at once and sailed for Money Island in an indirect course. We soon