Then he heard voices, and, gliding near, among the shadowy trees, perceived that it was not the squire, but some of the “Huswick tribe,” whom the hope of finding more coin had brought again to the hollow log. There were Cub and Tug and Hank; they had broken the rotten shell to pieces, laying the cavity completely open; and they now stood around it, poking in the rubbish with sticks or fingers or feet, hunting—in vain it seemed—for stray half-dollars.