There's a Yankee and a Dutchman diggin' a big hole a piece above here--expectin' to find Mr.Kidd's money." Such was the reception these boatmen met with at the hands of Mrs.
Brophy, whose husband, a short, thick-shouldered, bullet-headed son of the Emerald Isle, with a short, black pipe in his wide mouth, and in his shirt and trousers, came to the door and seated himself on the sill.
"Is it Misther Kidd's money ye's is afther ?" he enquired, querulously, putting his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands.

"Much luck may ye's have finding it.

Divel a cint meself iver saw uv Misther Kidd's money, an' we've liv'd here this two years an' more.

It's mighty little uv any other man's money--not enough, troth, to get bread for the childher--have we seen." The boatmen enquired of Mr.Brophy if he could tell them where the devil's sounding-stone was.

There was indeed a superstition amongst these poor people that Kidd had buried his money under a rock he gave that name to; and that there was an agreement with his satanic majesty, who was to stand guard over it, and allow only those who had the talisman to lay hands on it.