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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Buried Treasure, by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: My Buried Treasure
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Release Date: May, 1999 [eBook #1761]
+[Most recently updated: March 19, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: Aaron Cannon and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BURIED TREASURE ***
+
+
+
+
+MY BURIED TREASURE
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+
+This is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The only part
+that is not true is the name of the man with whom I searched for the
+treasure. Unless I keep his name out of it he will not let me write the
+story, and, as it was his expedition and as my share of the treasure is
+only what I can make by writing the story, I must write as he dictates.
+I think the story should be told, because our experience was unique,
+and might be of benefit to others. And, besides, I need the money.
+
+There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing him as I
+think he is, or reporting, as accurately as I can, what he said and did
+as he said and did it.
+
+For purposes of identification I shall call him Edgar Powell. The last
+name has no significance; but the first name is not chosen at random.
+The leader of our expedition, the head and brains of it, was and is the
+sort of man one would address as Edgar. No one would think of calling
+him “Ed,” or “Eddie,” any more than he would consider slapping him on
+the back.
+
+We were together at college; but, as six hundred other boys were there
+at the same time, that gives no clew to his identity. Since those days,
+until he came to see me about the treasure, we had not met. All I knew
+of him was that he had succeeded his father in manufacturing
+unshrinkable flannels. Of course, the reader understands that is not
+the article of commerce he manufactures; but it is near enough, and it
+suggests the line of business to which he gives his life’s blood. It is
+not similar to my own line of work, and in consequence, when he wrote
+me, on the unshrinkable flannels official writing-paper, that he wished
+to see me in reference to a matter of business of “mutual benefit,” I
+was considerably puzzled.
+
+A few days later, at nine in the morning, an hour of his own choosing,
+he came to my rooms in New York City.
+
+Except that he had grown a beard, he was as I remembered him, thin and
+tall, but with no chest, and stooping shoulders. He wore eye-glasses,
+and as of old through these he regarded you disapprovingly and warily
+as though he suspected you might try to borrow money, or even joke with
+him. As with Edgar I had never felt any temptation to do either, this
+was irritating.
+
+But from force of former habit we greeted each other by our first
+names, and he suspiciously accepted a cigar. Then, after fixing me both
+with his eyes and with his eye-glasses and swearing me to secrecy, he
+began abruptly.
+
+“Our mills,” he said, “are in New Bedford; and I own several small
+cottages there and in Fairhaven. I rent them out at a moderate rate.
+The other day one of my tenants, a Portuguese sailor, was taken
+suddenly ill and sent for me. He had made many voyages in and out of
+Bedford to the South Seas, whaling, and he told me on his last voyage
+he had touched at his former home at Teneriffe. There his grandfather
+had given him a document that had been left him by _his_ father. His
+grandfather said it contained an important secret, but one that was of
+value only in America, and that when he returned to that continent he
+must be very careful to whom he showed it. He told me it was written in
+a kind of English he could not understand, and that he had been afraid
+to let any one see it. He wanted me to accept the document in payment
+of the rent he owed me, with the understanding that I was not to look
+at it, and that if he got well I was to give it back. If he pulled
+through, he was to pay me in some other way; but if he died I was to
+keep the document. About a month ago he died, and I examined the paper.
+It purports to tell where there is buried a pirate’s treasure. And,”
+added Edgar, gazing at me severely and as though he challenged me to
+contradict him, “I intend to dig for it!”
+
+Had he told me he contemplated crossing the Rocky Mountains in a Baby
+Wright, or leading a cotillon, I could not have been more astonished. I
+am afraid I laughed aloud.
+
+“You!” I exclaimed. “Search for buried treasure?”
+
+My tone visibly annoyed him. Even the eye-glasses radiated disapproval.
+
+“I see nothing amusing in the idea,” Edgar protested coldly. “It is a
+plain business proposition. I find the outlay will be small, and if I
+am successful the returns should be large; at a rough estimate about
+one million dollars.”
+
+Even to-day, no true American, at the thought of one million dollars,
+can remain covered. His letter to me had said, “for our mutual
+benefit.” I became respectful and polite, I might even say abject.
+After all, the ties that bind us in those dear old college days are not
+lightly to be disregarded.
+
+“If I can be of any service to you, Edgar, old man,” I assured him
+heartily, “if I can help you find it, you know I shall be only too
+happy.” With regret I observed that my generous offer did not seem to
+deeply move him.
+
+“I came to you in this matter,” he continued stiffly, “because you
+seemed to be the sort of person who would be interested in a search for
+buried treasure.”
+
+“I am,” I exclaimed. “Always have been.”
+
+“Have you,” he demanded searchingly, “any practical experience?”
+
+I tried to appear at ease; but I knew then just how the man who applies
+to look after your furnace feels, when you ask him if he can also run a
+sixty horse-power dynamo.
+
+“I have never actually _found_ any buried treasure,” I admitted; “but I
+know where lots of it is, and I know just how to go after it.” I
+endeavored to dazzle him with expert knowledge.
+
+“Of course,” I went on airily, “I am familiar with all the expeditions
+that have tried for the one on Cocos Island, and I know all about the
+Peruvian treasure on Trinidad, and the lost treasures of Jalisco near
+Guadalajara, and the sunken galleon on the Grand Cayman, and when I was
+on the Isle of Pines I had several very tempting offers to search
+there. And the late Captain Boynton invited me——”
+
+“But,” interrupted Edgar in a tone that would tolerate no trifling,
+“you yourself have never financed or organized an expedition with the
+object in view of——”
+
+“Oh, that part’s easy!” I assured him. “The fitting-out part you can
+safely leave to me.” I assumed a confidence that I hoped he might
+believe was real. “There’s always a tramp steamer in the Erie Basin,” I
+said, “that one can charter for any kind of adventure, and I have the
+addresses of enough soldiers of fortune, filibusters, and professional
+revolutionists to man a battle-ship, all fine fellows in a tight
+corner. And I’ll promise you they’ll follow us to hell, and back——”
+
+“That!” exclaimed Edgar, “is exactly what I feared!”
+
+“I beg your pardon!” I exclaimed.
+
+“That’s exactly what I _don’t_ want,” said Edgar sternly. “I don’t
+_intend_ to get into any tight corners. I don’t _want_ to go to hell!”
+
+I saw that in my enthusiasm I had perhaps alarmed him. I continued more
+temperately.
+
+“Any expedition after treasure,” I pointed out, “is never without risk.
+You must have discipline, and you must have picked men. Suppose there’s
+a mutiny? Suppose they try to rob us of the treasure on our way home?
+We must have men we can rely on, and men who know how to pump a
+Winchester. I can get you both. And Bannerman will furnish me with
+anything from a pair of leggins to a quick firing gun, and on Clark
+Street they’ll quote me a special rate on ship stores, hydraulic pumps,
+divers’ helmets——”
+
+Edgar’s eye-glasses became frosted with cold, condemnatory scorn. He
+shook his head disgustedly.
+
+“I was afraid of this!” he murmured.
+
+I endeavored to reassure him.
+
+“A little danger,” I laughed, “only adds to the fun.”
+
+“I want you to understand,” exclaimed Edgar indignantly, “there isn’t
+going to be any danger. There isn’t going to be any fun. This is a
+plain business proposition. I asked you those questions just to test
+you. And you approached the matter exactly as I feared you would. I was
+prepared for it. In fact,” he explained shamefacedly, “I’ve read
+several of your little stories, and I find they run to adventure and
+blood and thunder; they are not of the analytical school of fiction.
+Judging from them,” he added accusingly, “you have a tendency to the
+romantic.” He spoke reluctantly as though saying I had a tendency to
+epileptic fits or the morphine habit.
+
+“I am afraid,” I was forced to admit, “that to me pirates and buried
+treasure always suggest adventure. And your criticism of my writings is
+well observed. Others have discovered the same fatal weakness. We
+cannot all,” I pointed out, “manufacture unshrinkable flannels.”
+
+At this compliment to his more fortunate condition, Edgar seemed to
+soften.
+
+“I grant you,” he said, “that the subject has almost invariably been
+approached from the point of view you take. And what,” he demanded
+triumphantly, “has been the result? Failure, or at least, before
+success was attained, a most unnecessary and regrettable loss of blood
+and life. Now, on my expedition, I do not intend that any blood shall
+be shed, or that anybody shall lose his life. I have not entered into
+this matter hastily. I have taken out information, and mean to benefit
+by other people’s mistakes. When I decided to go on with this,” he
+explained, “I read all the books that bear on searches for buried
+treasure, and I found that in each case the same mistakes were made,
+and that then, in order to remedy the mistakes, it was invariably
+necessary to kill somebody. Now, by not making those mistakes, it will
+not be necessary for me to kill any one, and nobody is going to have a
+chance to kill me.
+
+“You propose that we fit out a schooner and sign on a crew. What will
+happen? A man with a sabre cut across his forehead, or with a black
+patch over one eye, will inevitably be one of that crew. And, as soon
+as we sail, he will at once begin to plot against us. A cabin boy who
+the conspirators think is asleep in his bunk will overhear their plot
+and will run to the quarter-deck to give warning; but a pistol shot
+rings out, and the cabin boy falls at the foot of the companion ladder.
+The cabin boy is always the first one to go. After that the mutineers
+kill the first mate, and lock us in our cabin, and take over the ship.
+They will then broach a cask of rum, and all through the night we will
+listen to their drunken howlings, and from the cabin airport watch the
+body of the first mate rolling in the lee scuppers.”
+
+“But you forget,” I protested eagerly, “there is always _one_ faithful
+member of the crew, who——”
+
+Edgar interrupted me impatiently.
+
+“I have not overlooked him,” he said. “He is a Jamaica negro of
+gigantic proportions, or the ship’s cook; but he always gets his too,
+and he gets it good. They throw _him_ to the sharks! Then we all camp
+out on a desert island inhabited only by goats, and we build a
+stockade, and the mutineers come to treat with us under a white flag,
+and we, trusting entirely to their honor, are fools enough to go out
+and talk with them. At which they shoot us up, and withdraw laughing
+scornfully.” Edgar fixed his eye-glasses upon me accusingly.
+
+“Am I right, or am I wrong?” he demanded. I was unable to answer.
+
+“The only man,” continued Edgar warmly, “who ever showed the slightest
+intelligence in the matter was the fellow in the ‘Gold Bug’. _He_ kept
+his mouth shut. He never let any one know that he was after buried
+treasure, until he found it. That’s me! Now I know _exactly_ where this
+treasure is, and——”
+
+I suppose, involuntarily, I must have given a start of interest; for
+Edgar paused and shook his head, slyly and cunningly. “And if you think
+I have the map on my person now,” he declared in triumph, “you’ll have
+to guess again!”
+
+“Really,” I protested, “I had no intention——”
+
+“Not you, perhaps,” said Edgar grudgingly; “but your Japanese valet
+conceals himself behind those curtains, follows me home, and at
+night——”
+
+“I haven’t got a valet,” I objected.
+
+Edgar merely smiled with the most aggravating self-sufficiency. “It
+makes no difference,” he declared. “_No one_ will ever find that map,
+or see that map, or know where that treasure is, until _I_ point to the
+spot.”
+
+“Your caution is admirable,” I said; “but what,” I jeered, “makes you
+think you can point to the spot, because your map says something like,
+‘Through the Sunken Valley to Witch’s Caldron, four points N. by N. E.
+to Gallows Hill where the shadow falls at sunrise, fifty fathoms west,
+fifty paces north as the crow flies, to the Seven Wells’? How the
+deuce,” I demanded, “is any one going to point to _that_ spot?”
+
+“It isn’t that kind of map,” shouted Edgar triumphantly. “If it had
+been, I wouldn’t have gone on with it. It’s a map anybody can read
+except a half-caste Portuguese sailor. It’s as plain as a laundry bill.
+It says,” he paused apprehensively, and then continued with caution,
+“it says at such and such a place there is a something. So many
+somethings from that something are three what-you-may-call-’ems, and in
+the centre of these three what-you-may-call-’ems is buried the
+treasure. It’s as plain as that!”
+
+“Even with the few details you have let escape you,” I said, “I could
+find _that_ spot in my sleep.”
+
+“I don’t think you could,” said Edgar uncomfortably; but I could see
+that he had mentally warned himself to be less communicative. “And,” he
+went on, “I am willing to lead you to it, if you subscribe to certain
+conditions.”
+
+Edgar’s insulting caution had ruffled my spirit.
+
+“Why do you think you can trust ME?” I asked haughtily. And then,
+remembering my share of the million dollars, I added in haste, “I
+accept the conditions.”
+
+“Of course, as you say, one has got to take _some_ risk,” Edgar
+continued; “but I feel sure,” he said, regarding me doubtfully, “you
+would not stoop to open robbery.” I thanked him.
+
+“Well, until one is tempted,” said Edgar, “one never knows _what_ he
+might do. And I’ve simply _got_ to have one other man, and I picked on
+you because I thought you could write about it.”
+
+“I see,” I said, “I am to act as the historian of the expedition.”
+
+“That will be arranged later,” said Edgar. “What I chiefly want you for
+is to dig. _Can_ you dig?” he asked eagerly. I told him I could; but
+that I would rather do almost anything else.
+
+“I _must_ have one other man,” repeated Edgar, “a man who is strong
+enough to dig, and strong enough to resist the temptation to murder
+me.” The retort was so easy that I let it pass. Besides, on Edgar, it
+would have been wasted.
+
+“I _think_ you will do,” he said with reluctance. “And now the
+conditions!”
+
+I smiled agreeably.
+
+“You are already sworn to secrecy,” said Edgar. “And you now agree in
+every detail to obey me implicitly, and to accompany me to a certain
+place, where you will dig. If I find the treasure, you agree, to help
+me guard it, and convey it to wherever I decide it is safe to leave it.
+Your responsibility is then at an end. One year after the treasure is
+discovered, you will be free to write the account of the expedition.
+For what you write, some magazine may pay you. What it pays you will be
+your share of the treasure.”
+
+Of my part of the million dollars, which I had hastily calculated could
+not be less than one-fifth, I had already spent over one hundred
+thousand dollars and was living far beyond my means. I had bought a
+farm with a waterfront on the Sound, a motor-boat, and, as I was not
+sure which make I preferred, three automobiles. I had at my own,
+expense produced a play of mine that no manager had appreciated, and
+its name in electric lights was already blinding Broadway. I had
+purchased a Hollander express rifle, a _real_ amber cigar holder, a
+private secretary who could play both rag-time and tennis, and a fur
+coat. So Edgar’s generous offer left me naked. When I had again
+accustomed myself to the narrow confines of my flat, and the jolt of
+the surface cars, I asked humbly:
+
+“Is that _all_ I get?”
+
+“Why should you expect any more?” demanded Edgar. “It isn’t _your_
+treasure. You wouldn’t expect me to make you a present of an interest
+in my mills; why should you get a share of my treasure?” He gazed at me
+reproachfully. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said. “It must be hard
+to think of things to write about, and I’m giving you a subject for
+nothing. I thought,” he remonstrated, “you’d jump at the chance. It
+isn’t every day a man can dig for buried treasure.”
+
+“That’s all right,” I said. “Perhaps I appreciate that quite as well as
+you do. But my time has a certain small value, and I can’t leave my
+work just for excitement. We may be weeks, months—— How long do you
+think we——”
+
+Behind his eye-glasses Edgar winked reprovingly.
+
+“That is a leading question,” he said. “I will pay all your legitimate
+expenses—transportation, food, lodging. It won’t cost you a cent. And
+you write the story—with my name left out,” he added hastily; “it would
+hurt my standing in the trade,” he explained—“and get paid for it.”
+
+I saw a sea voyage at Edgar’s expense. I saw palm leaves, coral reefs.
+I felt my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and shoulders
+as I drove my pick into the chest of gold.
+
+“I’ll go with you!” I said. We shook hands on it. “When do we start?” I
+asked.
+
+“Now!” said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched upon
+one of my pet vanities.
+
+“You can’t do that with me!” I said. “My bags are packed and ready for
+any place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can start this
+minute. Where is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast, the Spanish
+Main——”
+
+Edgar frowned inscrutably. “Have you an empty suit-case?” he asked.
+
+“Why EMPTY?” I demanded.
+
+“To carry the treasure,” said Edgar. “I left mine in the hall. We will
+need two.”
+
+“And your trunks?” I said.
+
+“There aren’t going to be any trunks,” said Edgar. From his pocket he
+had taken a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. “If we hurry,”
+he exclaimed, “we can catch the ten-thirty express, and return to New
+York in time for dinner.”
+
+“And what about the treasure?” I roared.
+
+“We’ll’ bring it with us,” said Edgar.
+
+I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused both. I
+insisted that I might be allowed at least to carry my automatic pistol.
+“Suppose some one tries to take the treasure from us?” I pointed out.
+
+“No one,” said Edgar severely, “would be such an ass as to imagine we
+are carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it contains
+pajamas.”
+
+“For local color, then,” I begged, “I want to say in my story that I
+went heavily armed.”
+
+“Say it, then,” snapped Edgar. “But you can’t _do_ it! Not with me, you
+can’t! How do I know you mightn’t——” He shook his head warily.
+
+It was a day in early October, the haze of Indian summer was in the
+air, and as we crossed the North River by the Twenty-third Street Ferry
+the sun flashed upon the white clouds overhead and the tumbling waters
+below. On each side of us great vessels with the Blue Peter at the fore
+lay at the wharfs ready to cast off, or were already nosing their way
+down the channel toward strange and beautiful ports. Lamport and Holt
+were rolling down to Rio; the Royal Mail’s _Magdalena_, no longer
+“white and gold,” was off to Kingston, where once seven pirates swung
+in chains; the _Clyde_ was on her way to Hayti where the buccaneers
+came from; the _Morro Castle_ was bound for Havana, which Morgan, king
+of all the pirates, had once made his own; and the _Red D_ was steaming
+to Porto Cabello where Sir Francis Drake, as big a buccaneer as any of
+them, lies entombed in her harbor. And _I_ was setting forth on a
+buried-treasure expedition on a snub-nosed, flat-bellied, fresh-water
+ferry-boat, bound for Jersey City! No one will ever know my sense of
+humiliation. And, when the Italian boy insulted my immaculate tan shoes
+by pointing at them and saying, “Shine?” I could have slain him. Fancy
+digging for buried treasure in freshly varnished boots! But Edgar did
+not mind. To him there was nothing lacking; it was just as it should
+be. He was deeply engrossed in calculating how many offices were for
+rent in the Singer Building!
+
+When we reached the other side, he refused to answer any of my eager
+questions. He would not let me know even for what place on the line he
+had purchased our tickets, and, as a hint that I should not disturb
+him, he stuffed into my hands the latest magazines. “At least tell me
+this,” I demanded. “Have you ever been to this place before to-day?”
+
+“Once,” said Edgar shortly, “last week. That’s when I found out I would
+need some one with me who could dig.”
+
+“How do you know it’s the _right_ place?” I whispered.
+
+The summer season was over, and of the chair car we were the only
+occupants; but, before he answered, Edgar looked cautiously round him
+and out of the window. We had just passed Red Bank.
+
+“Because the map told me,” he answered. “Suppose,” he continued
+fretfully, “you had a map of New York City with the streets marked on
+it plainly? Suppose the map said that if you walked to where Broadway
+and Fifth Avenue meet, you would find the Flatiron Building. Do you
+think you could find it?”
+
+“Was it as easy as _that?_” I gasped.
+
+“It was as easy as _that!_” said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair and let the magazines slide to the floor.
+What fiction story was there in any one of them so enthralling as the
+actual possibilities that lay before me? In two hours I might be
+bending over a pot of gold, a sea chest stuffed with pearls and rubies!
+
+I began to recall all the stories I had heard as a boy of treasure
+buried along the coast by Kidd on his return voyage from the Indies.
+Where along the Jersey sea-line were there safe harbors? The train on
+which we were racing south had its rail head at Barnegat Bay. And
+between Barnegat and Red Bank there now was but one other inlet, that
+of the Manasquan River. It might be Barnegat; it might be Manasquan. It
+could not be a great distance from either;
+for sailors would not have carried their burden far from the ship. I
+glanced appealingly at Edgar. He was smiling happily over “Pickings
+from Puck.” We passed Asbury Park and Ocean Grove, halted at Sea Girt,
+and again at Manasquan; but Egdar did not move. The next station was
+Point Pleasant, and as the train drew to a stop, Edgar rose calmly and
+grasped his suit-case.
+
+“We get out here,” he said.
+
+Drawn up at the station were three open-work hacks with fringe around
+the top. From each a small boy waved at us with his whip.
+
+“Curtis House? The Gladstone? The Cottage in the Pines?” they chanted
+invitingly.
+
+“Take me to a hardware store,” said Edgar, “where one can buy a spade.”
+When we stopped I made a move to get down; but Edgar stopped me.
+
+I protested indignantly, “I haven’t _much_ to say about this
+expedition;” I exclaimed, “but, as _I_ have to do the digging, I intend
+to choose my own spade.”
+
+Edgar’s eye-glasses flashed defiance. “You have given your word to obey
+me,” he said sternly. “If you do not intend to obey me, you can return
+in ten minutes by the next train.”
+
+I sank into my seat. In a moment the mutiny had been crushed. Not even
+a cabin boy had fallen! Edgar returned with a spade, an axe, and a
+pick. He placed them in the seat beside the boy driver.
+
+“What is your name, boy?” he asked.
+
+“Rupert,” said the boy.
+
+“Rupert,” continued Edgar, “drive us to the beach. When you get to the
+bathing pavilions keep on along the shore toward Manasquan Inlet.” He
+touched the spade with his hand. “I have bought a building lot on the
+beach,” he explained, “and am going to dig a hole, and plant a
+flagpole.”
+
+I was choked with indignation. As a writer of fiction my self-respect
+was insulted.
+
+“If there are any more lies to be told,” I whispered, “please let _me_
+tell them. Your invention is crude, ridiculous! Why,” I demanded,
+“should anybody want to plant a flagpole on a wind-swept beach in
+October? It’s not the season for flagpoles. Besides,” I jeered, “where
+is your flagpole? Is it concealed in the suit-case?”
+
+Edgar frowned uneasily, and touched the boy on the shoulder.
+
+“The flagpole itself,” he explained, “is coming down to-morrow by
+express.”
+
+The boy yawned, and slapped the flanks of his horse with the reins.
+“Gat up!” he said.
+
+We crossed the railroad tracks and moved toward the ocean down a broad,
+sandy road. The season had passed and the windows of the cottages and
+bungalows on either side of the road were barricaded with planks. On
+the verandas hammocks abandoned to the winds hung in tatters, on the
+back porches the doors of empty refrigerators swung open on one hinge,
+and on every side above the fields of gorgeous golden-rod rose signs
+reading “For Rent.” When we had progressed in silence for a mile, the
+sandy avenue lost itself in the deeper sand of the beach, and the horse
+of his own will came to a halt. On one side we were surrounded by
+locked and deserted bathing houses, on the other by empty pavilions
+shuttered and barred against the winter, but still inviting one to “Try
+our salt water taffy” or to “_Keep cool_ with an ice-cream soda.”
+Rupert turned and looked inquiringly at Edgar. To the north the beach
+stretched in an unbroken line to Manasquan Inlet. To the south three
+miles away we could see floating on the horizon-like a mirage the
+hotels and summer cottages of Bay Head.
+
+“Drive toward the inlet,” directed Edgar. “This gentleman and I will
+walk.”
+
+Relieved of our weight, the horse stumbled bravely into the trackless
+sand, while below on the damper and firmer shingle we walked by the
+edge of the water.
+
+The tide was coming in and the spent waves, spreading before them an
+advance guard of tiny shells and pebbles, threatened our boots’ and at
+the same time in soothing, lazy whispers warned us of their attack.
+These lisping murmurs and the crash and roar of each incoming wave as
+it broke were the only sounds. And on the beach we were the only human
+figures. At last the scene began to bear some resemblance to one set
+for an adventure. The rolling ocean, a coast steamer dragging a great
+column of black smoke, and cast high upon the beach the wreck of a
+schooner, her masts tilting drunkenly, gave color to our purpose. It
+became filled with greater promise of drama, more picturesque. I began
+to thrill with excitement. I regarded Edgar appealingly, in eager
+supplication. At last he broke the silence that was torturing me.
+
+“We will now walk higher up,” he commanded. “If we get our feet wet, we
+may take cold.”
+
+My spirit was too far broken to make reply. But to my relief I saw that
+in leaving the beach Edgar had some second purpose. With each heavy
+step he was drawing toward two high banks of sand in a hollow behind
+which, protected by the banks, were three stunted, wind-driven pines.
+His words came back to me.
+
+“So many what-you-may-call-’ems.” Were these pines the three somethings
+from something, the what-you-may-call-’ems? The thought chilled me to
+the spine. I gazed at them fascinated. I felt like falling on my knees
+in the sand and tearing their secret from them with my bare hands. I
+was strong enough to dig them up by the roots, strong enough to dig the
+Panama Canal! I glanced tremulously at Edgar. His eyes were wide open
+and, eloquent with dismay, his lower jaw had fallen. He turned and
+looked at me for the first time with consideration. Apology and remorse
+were written in every line of his countenance.
+
+I’m sorry, he stammered. I had a cruel premonition. I exclaimed with
+distress.
+
+“You have lost the map!” I hissed.
+
+“No, no,” protested Edgar; “but I entirely forgot to bring any lunch!”
+
+With violent mutterings I tore off my upper and outer garments and
+tossed them into the hack.
+
+“Where do I begin?” I asked.
+
+Edgar pointed to a spot inside the triangle formed by the three trees
+and equally distant from each.
+
+“Put that horse behind the bank,” I commanded, “where no one can see
+him! And both you and Rupert keep off the sky-line!” From the north and
+south we were now all three hidden by the two high banks of sand; to
+the east lay the beach and the Atlantic Ocean, and to the west
+stretches of marshes that a mile away met a wood of pine trees and the
+railroad round-house.
+
+I began to dig. I knew that weary hours lay before me, and I attacked
+the sand leisurely and with deliberation. It was at first no great
+effort; but as the hole grew in depth, and the roots of the trees were
+exposed, the work was sufficient for several men. Still, as Edgar had
+said, it is not every day that one can dig for treasure, and in
+thinking of what was to come I forgot my hands that quickly blistered,
+and my breaking back. After an hour I insisted that Edgar should take a
+turn; but he made such poor headway that my patience could not contain
+me, and I told him I was sufficiently rested and would continue. With
+alacrity he scrambled out of the hole, and, taking a cigar from my
+case, seated himself comfortably in the hack. I took my comfort in
+anticipating the thrill that would be mine when the spade would ring on
+the ironbound chest; when, with a blow of the axe, I would expose to
+view the hidden jewels, the pieces of eight, coated with verdigris, the
+string of pearls, the chains of yellow gold. Edgar had said a million
+dollars. That must mean there would be diamonds, many diamonds. I would
+hold them in my hands, watch them, at the sudden sunshine, blink their
+eyes and burst into tiny, burning fires. In imagination I would replace
+them in the setting, from which, years before, they had been stolen. I
+would try to guess whence they came from a jewelled chalice in some dim
+cathedral, from the breast of a great lady, from the hilt of an
+admiral’s sword.
+
+After another hour I lifted my aching shoulders and, wiping the sweat
+from my eyes, looked over the edge of the hole. Rupert, with his back
+to the sand-hill, was asleep. Edgar with one hand was waving away the
+mosquitoes and in the other was holding one of the magazines he had
+bought on the way down. I could even see the page upon which his eyes
+were riveted. It was an advertisement for breakfast food. In my
+indignation the spade slipped through my cramped and perspiring
+fingers, and as it struck the bottom of the pit, something—a band of
+iron, a steel lock, an iron ring—gave forth a muffled sound. My heart
+stopped beating as suddenly as though Mr. Corbett had hit it with his
+closed fist. My blood turned to melted ice. I drove the spade down as
+fiercely as though it was a dagger. It sank into rotten wood. I had
+made no sound; for I could hardly breathe. But the slight noise of the
+blow had reached Edgar. I heard the springs of the hack creak as he
+vaulted from it, and the next moment he was towering above me, peering
+down into the pit. His eyes were wide with excitement, greed, and fear.
+In his hands he clutched the two suit-cases. Like a lion defending his
+cubs he glared at me.
+
+“Get out!” he shouted.
+
+[Illustration: In his hands he clutched the two suit-cases. . . . “Get
+out!” he shouted.]
+
+
+“Like hell!” I said.
+
+“Get out!” he roared. “I’ll do the rest. That’s mine, not yours! _Get
+out!_”
+
+With a swift kick I brushed away the sand. I found I was standing on a
+squat wooden box, bound with bands of rusty iron. I had only to stoop
+to touch it. It was so rotten that I could have torn it apart with my
+bare hands. Edgar was dancing on the edge of the pit, incidentally
+kicking sand into my mouth and nostrils.
+
+“You _promised_ me!” he roared. “You _promised_ to obey me!”
+
+“You ass!” I shouted. “Haven’t I done all the work? Don’t I get——”
+
+“You get out!” roared Edgar.
+
+Slowly, disgustedly, with what dignity one can display in crawling out
+of a sand-pit, I scrambled to the top.
+
+“Go over there,” commanded Edgar pointing, “and sit down.”
+
+In furious silence I seated myself beside Rupert. He was still
+slumbering and snoring happily. From where I sat I could see nothing of
+what was going forward in the pit, save once, when the head of Edgar,
+his eyes aflame and his hair and eye-glasses sprinkled with sand,
+appeared above it. Apparently he was fearful lest I had moved from the
+spot where he had placed me. I had not; but had he known my inmost
+feelings he would have taken the axe into the pit with him.
+
+I must have sat so for half an hour. In the sky above me a fish-hawk
+drifted lazily. From the beach sounded the steady beat of the waves,
+and from the town across the marshes came the puffing of a locomotive
+and the clanging bells of the freight trains. The breeze from the sea
+cooled the sweat on my aching body; but it could not cool the rage in
+my heart. If I had the courage of my feelings, I would have cracked
+Edgar over head with the spade, buried him in the pit, bribed Rupert,
+and forever after lived happily on my ill-gotten gains. That was how
+Kidd, or Morgan, or Blackbeard would have acted. I cursed the effete
+civilization which had taught me to want many pleasures but had left me
+with a conscience that would not let me take human life to obtain them,
+not even Edgar’s life.
+
+In half an hour a suit-case was lifted into view and dropped on the
+edge of the pit. It was followed by the other, and then by Edgar.
+Without asking me to help him, because he probably knew I would not, he
+shovelled the sand into the hole, and then placed the suitcases in the
+carriage. With increasing anger I observed that the contents of each
+were so heavy that to lift it he used both hands.
+
+“There is no use your asking any questions,” he announced, “because I
+won’t answer them.”
+
+I gave him minute directions as to where he could go; but instead we
+drove in black silence to the station. There Edgar rewarded Rupert with
+a dime, and while we waited for the train to New York placed the two
+suit-cases against the wall of the ticket office and sat upon them.
+When the train arrived he warned me in a hoarse whisper that I had
+promised to help him guard the treasure, and gave me one of the
+suit-cases. It weighed a ton. Just to spite Edgar, I had a plan to kick
+it open, so that every one on the platform might scramble for the
+contents. But again my infernal New England conscience restrained me.
+
+Edgar had secured the drawing-room in the parlor-car, and when we were
+safely inside and the door bolted my curiosity became stronger than my
+pride.
+
+“Edgar,” I said, “your ingratitude is contemptible. Your suspicions are
+ridiculous; but, under these most unusual conditions, I don’t blame
+you. But we are quite safe now. The door is fastened,” I pointed out
+ingratiatingly, “it and this train doesn’t stop for another forty
+minutes. I think this would be an excellent time to look at the
+treasure.”
+
+“I don’t!” said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair. With intense enjoyment I imagined the train
+in which we were seated hurling itself into another train; and
+everybody, including Edgar, or, rather, especially Edgar, being
+instantly but painlessly killed. By such an act of an all-wise
+Providence I would at once become heir to one million dollars. It was a
+beautiful, satisfying dream. Even MY conscience accepted it with a smug
+smile. It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily expectant, waiting
+for the crash to come, for the shrieks and screams, for the rush of
+escaping steam and breaking window-panes.
+
+But it was far too good to be true. Without a jar the train carried us
+and its precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal. And
+each, with half a million dollars in his hand, hurried to the ferry,
+assailed by porters, news-boys, hackmen. To them we were a couple of
+commuters saving a dime by carrying our own hand-bags.
+
+It was now six o’clock, and I pointed out to Edgar that at that hour
+the only vaults open were those of the Night and Day Bank. And to that
+institution in a taxicab we at once made our way. I paid the chauffeur,
+and two minutes later, with a gasp of relief and rejoicing, I dropped
+the suit-case I had carried on a table in the steel-walled fastnesses
+of the vaults. Gathered excitedly around us were the officials of the
+bank, summoned hastily from above, and watchmen in plain clothes, and
+watchmen in uniforms of gray. Great bars as thick as my leg protected
+us. Walls of chilled steel rising from solid rock stood between our
+treasure and the outer world. Until then I had not known how tremendous
+the nervous strain had been; but now it came home to me. I mopped the
+perspiration from my forehead, I drew a deep breath.
+
+“Edgar,” I exclaimed happily, “I congratulate you!” I found Edgar
+extending toward me a two-dollar bill. “You gave the chauffeur two
+dollars,”’ he said. “The fare was really one dollar eighty; so you owe
+me twenty cents.”
+
+Mechanically I laid two dimes upon the table.
+
+“All the other expenses,” continued Edgar, “which I agreed to pay, I
+have paid.” He made a peremptory gesture. “I won’t detain you any
+longer,” he said. “Good-night!”
+
+“Good-night!” I cried. “Don’t I see the treasure?” Against the walls of
+chilled steel my voice rose like that of a tortured soul. “Don’t I
+touch it!” I yelled. “Don’t I even get a squint?”
+
+Even the watchmen looked sorry for me.
+
+“You do not!” said Edgar calmly. “You have fulfilled your part of the
+agreement. I have fulfilled mine. A year from now you can write the
+story.” As I moved in a dazed state toward the steel door, his voice
+halted me.
+
+“And you can say in your story,” called Edgar, “that there is only one
+way to get a buried treasure. That is to go, and get it!”
+
+
+
+
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Buried Treasure, by Richard Harding Davis</div>
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+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: My Buried Treasure</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Richard Harding Davis</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May, 1999 [eBook #1761]<br />
+[Most recently updated: March 19, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Aaron Cannon and David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BURIED TREASURE ***</div>
+
+<h1>MY BURIED TREASURE</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">by Richard Harding Davis</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p>
+This is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The only part that is not
+true is the name of the man with whom I searched for the treasure. Unless I
+keep his name out of it he will not let me write the story, and, as it was his
+expedition and as my share of the treasure is only what I can make by writing
+the story, I must write as he dictates. I think the story should be told,
+because our experience was unique, and might be of benefit to others. And,
+besides, I need the money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing him as I think he
+is, or reporting, as accurately as I can, what he said and did as he said and
+did it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For purposes of identification I shall call him Edgar Powell. The last name has
+no significance; but the first name is not chosen at random. The leader of our
+expedition, the head and brains of it, was and is the sort of man one would
+address as Edgar. No one would think of calling him “Ed,” or “Eddie,” any more
+than he would consider slapping him on the back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were together at college; but, as six hundred other boys were there at the
+same time, that gives no clew to his identity. Since those days, until he came
+to see me about the treasure, we had not met. All I knew of him was that he had
+succeeded his father in manufacturing unshrinkable flannels. Of course, the
+reader understands that is not the article of commerce he manufactures; but it
+is near enough, and it suggests the line of business to which he gives his
+life’s blood. It is not similar to my own line of work, and in consequence,
+when he wrote me, on the unshrinkable flannels official writing-paper, that he
+wished to see me in reference to a matter of business of “mutual benefit,” I
+was considerably puzzled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few days later, at nine in the morning, an hour of his own choosing, he came
+to my rooms in New York City.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Except that he had grown a beard, he was as I remembered him, thin and tall,
+but with no chest, and stooping shoulders. He wore eye-glasses, and as of old
+through these he regarded you disapprovingly and warily as though he suspected
+you might try to borrow money, or even joke with him. As with Edgar I had never
+felt any temptation to do either, this was irritating.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But from force of former habit we greeted each other by our first names, and he
+suspiciously accepted a cigar. Then, after fixing me both with his eyes and
+with his eye-glasses and swearing me to secrecy, he began abruptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Our mills,” he said, “are in New Bedford; and I own several small cottages
+there and in Fairhaven. I rent them out at a moderate rate. The other day one
+of my tenants, a Portuguese sailor, was taken suddenly ill and sent for me. He
+had made many voyages in and out of Bedford to the South Seas, whaling, and he
+told me on his last voyage he had touched at his former home at Teneriffe.
+There his grandfather had given him a document that had been left him by
+<i>his</i> father. His grandfather said it contained an important secret, but
+one that was of value only in America, and that when he returned to that
+continent he must be very careful to whom he showed it. He told me it was
+written in a kind of English he could not understand, and that he had been
+afraid to let any one see it. He wanted me to accept the document in payment of
+the rent he owed me, with the understanding that I was not to look at it, and
+that if he got well I was to give it back. If he pulled through, he was to pay
+me in some other way; but if he died I was to keep the document. About a month
+ago he died, and I examined the paper. It purports to tell where there is
+buried a pirate’s treasure. And,” added Edgar, gazing at me severely and as
+though he challenged me to contradict him, “I intend to dig for it!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had he told me he contemplated crossing the Rocky Mountains in a Baby Wright,
+or leading a cotillon, I could not have been more astonished. I am afraid I
+laughed aloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You!” I exclaimed. “Search for buried treasure?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My tone visibly annoyed him. Even the eye-glasses radiated disapproval.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I see nothing amusing in the idea,” Edgar protested coldly. “It is a plain
+business proposition. I find the outlay will be small, and if I am successful
+the returns should be large; at a rough estimate about one million dollars.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even to-day, no true American, at the thought of one million dollars, can
+remain covered. His letter to me had said, “for our mutual benefit.” I became
+respectful and polite, I might even say abject. After all, the ties that bind
+us in those dear old college days are not lightly to be disregarded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If I can be of any service to you, Edgar, old man,” I assured him heartily,
+“if I can help you find it, you know I shall be only too happy.” With regret I
+observed that my generous offer did not seem to deeply move him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I came to you in this matter,” he continued stiffly, “because you seemed to be
+the sort of person who would be interested in a search for buried treasure.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I am,” I exclaimed. “Always have been.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Have you,” he demanded searchingly, “any practical experience?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I tried to appear at ease; but I knew then just how the man who applies to look
+after your furnace feels, when you ask him if he can also run a sixty
+horse-power dynamo.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I have never actually <i>found</i> any buried treasure,” I admitted; “but I
+know where lots of it is, and I know just how to go after it.” I endeavored to
+dazzle him with expert knowledge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Of course,” I went on airily, “I am familiar with all the expeditions that
+have tried for the one on Cocos Island, and I know all about the Peruvian
+treasure on Trinidad, and the lost treasures of Jalisco near Guadalajara, and
+the sunken galleon on the Grand Cayman, and when I was on the Isle of Pines I
+had several very tempting offers to search there. And the late Captain Boynton
+invited me——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“But,” interrupted Edgar in a tone that would tolerate no trifling, “you
+yourself have never financed or organized an expedition with the object in view
+of——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Oh, that part’s easy!” I assured him. “The fitting-out part you can safely
+leave to me.” I assumed a confidence that I hoped he might believe was real.
+“There’s always a tramp steamer in the Erie Basin,” I said, “that one can
+charter for any kind of adventure, and I have the addresses of enough soldiers
+of fortune, filibusters, and professional revolutionists to man a battle-ship,
+all fine fellows in a tight corner. And I’ll promise you they’ll follow us to
+hell, and back——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That!” exclaimed Edgar, “is exactly what I feared!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I beg your pardon!” I exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s exactly what I <i>don’t</i> want,” said Edgar sternly. “I don’t
+<i>intend</i> to get into any tight corners. I don’t <i>want</i> to go to
+hell!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw that in my enthusiasm I had perhaps alarmed him. I continued more
+temperately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Any expedition after treasure,” I pointed out, “is never without risk. You
+must have discipline, and you must have picked men. Suppose there’s a mutiny?
+Suppose they try to rob us of the treasure on our way home? We must have men we
+can rely on, and men who know how to pump a Winchester. I can get you both. And
+Bannerman will furnish me with anything from a pair of leggins to a quick
+firing gun, and on Clark Street they’ll quote me a special rate on ship stores,
+hydraulic pumps, divers’ helmets——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar’s eye-glasses became frosted with cold, condemnatory scorn. He shook his
+head disgustedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I was afraid of this!” he murmured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I endeavored to reassure him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A little danger,” I laughed, “only adds to the fun.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I want you to understand,” exclaimed Edgar indignantly, “there isn’t going to
+be any danger. There isn’t going to be any fun. This is a plain business
+proposition. I asked you those questions just to test you. And you approached
+the matter exactly as I feared you would. I was prepared for it. In fact,” he
+explained shamefacedly, “I’ve read several of your little stories, and I find
+they run to adventure and blood and thunder; they are not of the analytical
+school of fiction. Judging from them,” he added accusingly, “you have a
+tendency to the romantic.” He spoke reluctantly as though saying I had a
+tendency to epileptic fits or the morphine habit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I am afraid,” I was forced to admit, “that to me pirates and buried treasure
+always suggest adventure. And your criticism of my writings is well observed.
+Others have discovered the same fatal weakness. We cannot all,” I pointed out,
+“manufacture unshrinkable flannels.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this compliment to his more fortunate condition, Edgar seemed to soften.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I grant you,” he said, “that the subject has almost invariably been approached
+from the point of view you take. And what,” he demanded triumphantly, “has been
+the result? Failure, or at least, before success was attained, a most
+unnecessary and regrettable loss of blood and life. Now, on my expedition, I do
+not intend that any blood shall be shed, or that anybody shall lose his life. I
+have not entered into this matter hastily. I have taken out information, and
+mean to benefit by other people’s mistakes. When I decided to go on with this,”
+he explained, “I read all the books that bear on searches for buried treasure,
+and I found that in each case the same mistakes were made, and that then, in
+order to remedy the mistakes, it was invariably necessary to kill somebody.
+Now, by not making those mistakes, it will not be necessary for me to kill any
+one, and nobody is going to have a chance to kill me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You propose that we fit out a schooner and sign on a crew. What will happen? A
+man with a sabre cut across his forehead, or with a black patch over one eye,
+will inevitably be one of that crew. And, as soon as we sail, he will at once
+begin to plot against us. A cabin boy who the conspirators think is asleep in
+his bunk will overhear their plot and will run to the quarter-deck to give
+warning; but a pistol shot rings out, and the cabin boy falls at the foot of
+the companion ladder. The cabin boy is always the first one to go. After that
+the mutineers kill the first mate, and lock us in our cabin, and take over the
+ship. They will then broach a cask of rum, and all through the night we will
+listen to their drunken howlings, and from the cabin airport watch the body of
+the first mate rolling in the lee scuppers.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“But you forget,” I protested eagerly, “there is always <i>one</i> faithful
+member of the crew, who——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar interrupted me impatiently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I have not overlooked him,” he said. “He is a Jamaica negro of gigantic
+proportions, or the ship’s cook; but he always gets his too, and he gets it
+good. They throw <i>him</i> to the sharks! Then we all camp out on a desert
+island inhabited only by goats, and we build a stockade, and the mutineers come
+to treat with us under a white flag, and we, trusting entirely to their honor,
+are fools enough to go out and talk with them. At which they shoot us up, and
+withdraw laughing scornfully.” Edgar fixed his eye-glasses upon me accusingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Am I right, or am I wrong?” he demanded. I was unable to answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The only man,” continued Edgar warmly, “who ever showed the slightest
+intelligence in the matter was the fellow in the ‘Gold Bug’. <i>He</i> kept his
+mouth shut. He never let any one know that he was after buried treasure, until
+he found it. That’s me! Now I know <i>exactly</i> where this treasure is,
+and——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I suppose, involuntarily, I must have given a start of interest; for Edgar
+paused and shook his head, slyly and cunningly. “And if you think I have the
+map on my person now,” he declared in triumph, “you’ll have to guess again!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Really,” I protested, “I had no intention——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Not you, perhaps,” said Edgar grudgingly; “but your Japanese valet conceals
+himself behind those curtains, follows me home, and at night——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I haven’t got a valet,” I objected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar merely smiled with the most aggravating self-sufficiency. “It makes no
+difference,” he declared. “<i>No one</i> will ever find that map, or see that
+map, or know where that treasure is, until <i>I</i> point to the spot.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Your caution is admirable,” I said; “but what,” I jeered, “makes you think you
+can point to the spot, because your map says something like, ‘Through the
+Sunken Valley to Witch’s Caldron, four points N. by N. E. to Gallows Hill where
+the shadow falls at sunrise, fifty fathoms west, fifty paces north as the crow
+flies, to the Seven Wells’? How the deuce,” I demanded, “is any one going to
+point to <i>that</i> spot?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It isn’t that kind of map,” shouted Edgar triumphantly. “If it had been, I
+wouldn’t have gone on with it. It’s a map anybody can read except a half-caste
+Portuguese sailor. It’s as plain as a laundry bill. It says,” he paused
+apprehensively, and then continued with caution, “it says at such and such a
+place there is a something. So many somethings from that something are three
+what-you-may-call-’ems, and in the centre of these three what-you-may-call-’ems
+is buried the treasure. It’s as plain as that!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Even with the few details you have let escape you,” I said, “I could find
+<i>that</i> spot in my sleep.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t think you could,” said Edgar uncomfortably; but I could see that he
+had mentally warned himself to be less communicative. “And,” he went on, “I am
+willing to lead you to it, if you subscribe to certain conditions.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar’s insulting caution had ruffled my spirit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Why do you think you can trust <small>ME</small>?” I asked haughtily. And
+then, remembering my share of the million dollars, I added in haste, “I accept
+the conditions.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Of course, as you say, one has got to take <i>some</i> risk,” Edgar continued;
+“but I feel sure,” he said, regarding me doubtfully, “you would not stoop to
+open robbery.” I thanked him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, until one is tempted,” said Edgar, “one never knows <i>what</i> he might
+do. And I’ve simply <i>got</i> to have one other man, and I picked on you
+because I thought you could write about it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I see,” I said, “I am to act as the historian of the expedition.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That will be arranged later,” said Edgar. “What I chiefly want you for is to
+dig. <i>Can</i> you dig?” he asked eagerly. I told him I could; but that I
+would rather do almost anything else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I <i>must</i> have one other man,” repeated Edgar, “a man who is strong enough
+to dig, and strong enough to resist the temptation to murder me.” The retort
+was so easy that I let it pass. Besides, on Edgar, it would have been wasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I <i>think</i> you will do,” he said with reluctance. “And now the
+conditions!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I smiled agreeably.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You are already sworn to secrecy,” said Edgar. “And you now agree in every
+detail to obey me implicitly, and to accompany me to a certain place, where you
+will dig. If I find the treasure, you agree, to help me guard it, and convey it
+to wherever I decide it is safe to leave it. Your responsibility is then at an
+end. One year after the treasure is discovered, you will be free to write the
+account of the expedition. For what you write, some magazine may pay you. What
+it pays you will be your share of the treasure.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of my part of the million dollars, which I had hastily calculated could not be
+less than one-fifth, I had already spent over one hundred thousand dollars and
+was living far beyond my means. I had bought a farm with a waterfront on the
+Sound, a motor-boat, and, as I was not sure which make I preferred, three
+automobiles. I had at my own, expense produced a play of mine that no manager
+had appreciated, and its name in electric lights was already blinding Broadway.
+I had purchased a Hollander express rifle, a <i>real</i> amber cigar holder, a
+private secretary who could play both rag-time and tennis, and a fur coat. So
+Edgar’s generous offer left me naked. When I had again accustomed myself to the
+narrow confines of my flat, and the jolt of the surface cars, I asked humbly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Is that <i>all</i> I get?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Why should you expect any more?” demanded Edgar. “It isn’t <i>your</i>
+treasure. You wouldn’t expect me to make you a present of an interest in my
+mills; why should you get a share of my treasure?” He gazed at me
+reproachfully. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said. “It must be hard to think
+of things to write about, and I’m giving you a subject for nothing. I thought,”
+he remonstrated, “you’d jump at the chance. It isn’t every day a man can dig
+for buried treasure.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s all right,” I said. “Perhaps I appreciate that quite as well as you do.
+But my time has a certain small value, and I can’t leave my work just for
+excitement. We may be weeks, months—— How long do you think we——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Behind his eye-glasses Edgar winked reprovingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That is a leading question,” he said. “I will pay all your legitimate
+expenses—transportation, food, lodging. It won’t cost you a cent. And you write
+the story—with my name left out,” he added hastily; “it would hurt my standing
+in the trade,” he explained—“and get paid for it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw a sea voyage at Edgar’s expense. I saw palm leaves, coral reefs. I felt
+my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and shoulders as I drove my
+pick into the chest of gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’ll go with you!” I said. We shook hands on it. “When do we start?” I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Now!” said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched upon one of
+my pet vanities.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You can’t do that with me!” I said. “My bags are packed and ready for any
+place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can start this minute. Where
+is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast, the Spanish Main——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar frowned inscrutably. “Have you an empty suit-case?” he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Why <small>EMPTY</small>?” I demanded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“To carry the treasure,” said Edgar. “I left mine in the hall. We will need
+two.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And your trunks?” I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“There aren’t going to be any trunks,” said Edgar. From his pocket he had taken
+a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. “If we hurry,” he exclaimed, “we
+can catch the ten-thirty express, and return to New York in time for dinner.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And what about the treasure?” I roared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“We’ll’ bring it with us,” said Edgar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused both. I insisted
+that I might be allowed at least to carry my automatic pistol. “Suppose some
+one tries to take the treasure from us?” I pointed out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“No one,” said Edgar severely, “would be such an ass as to imagine we are
+carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it contains pajamas.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“For local color, then,” I begged, “I want to say in my story that I went
+heavily armed.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Say it, then,” snapped Edgar. “But you can’t <i>do</i> it! Not with me, you
+can’t! How do I know you mightn’t——” He shook his head warily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a day in early October, the haze of Indian summer was in the air, and as
+we crossed the North River by the Twenty-third Street Ferry the sun flashed
+upon the white clouds overhead and the tumbling waters below. On each side of
+us great vessels with the Blue Peter at the fore lay at the wharfs ready to
+cast off, or were already nosing their way down the channel toward strange and
+beautiful ports. Lamport and Holt were rolling down to Rio; the Royal Mail’s
+<i>Magdalena</i>, no longer “white and gold,” was off to Kingston, where once
+seven pirates swung in chains; the <i>Clyde</i> was on her way to Hayti where
+the buccaneers came from; the <i>Morro Castle</i> was bound for Havana, which
+Morgan, king of all the pirates, had once made his own; and the <i>Red D</i>
+was steaming to Porto Cabello where Sir Francis Drake, as big a buccaneer as
+any of them, lies entombed in her harbor. And <i>I</i> was setting forth on a
+buried-treasure expedition on a snub-nosed, flat-bellied, fresh-water
+ferry-boat, bound for Jersey City! No one will ever know my sense of
+humiliation. And, when the Italian boy insulted my immaculate tan shoes by
+pointing at them and saying, “Shine?” I could have slain him. Fancy digging for
+buried treasure in freshly varnished boots! But Edgar did not mind. To him
+there was nothing lacking; it was just as it should be. He was deeply engrossed
+in calculating how many offices were for rent in the Singer Building!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we reached the other side, he refused to answer any of my eager questions.
+He would not let me know even for what place on the line he had purchased our
+tickets, and, as a hint that I should not disturb him, he stuffed into my hands
+the latest magazines. “At least tell me this,” I demanded. “Have you ever been
+to this place before to-day?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Once,” said Edgar shortly, “last week. That’s when I found out I would need
+some one with me who could dig.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“How do you know it’s the <i>right</i> place?” I whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The summer season was over, and of the chair car we were the only occupants;
+but, before he answered, Edgar looked cautiously round him and out of the
+window. We had just passed Red Bank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Because the map told me,” he answered. “Suppose,” he continued fretfully, “you
+had a map of New York City with the streets marked on it plainly? Suppose the
+map said that if you walked to where Broadway and Fifth Avenue meet, you would
+find the Flatiron Building. Do you think you could find it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Was it as easy as <i>that?</i>” I gasped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It was as easy as <i>that!</i>” said Edgar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sank back into my chair and let the magazines slide to the floor. What
+fiction story was there in any one of them so enthralling as the actual
+possibilities that lay before me? In two hours I might be bending over a pot of
+gold, a sea chest stuffed with pearls and rubies!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began to recall all the stories I had heard as a boy of treasure buried along
+the coast by Kidd on his return voyage from the Indies. Where along the Jersey
+sea-line were there safe harbors? The train on which we were racing south had
+its rail head at Barnegat Bay. And between Barnegat and Red Bank there now was
+but one other inlet, that of the Manasquan River. It might be Barnegat; it
+might be Manasquan. It could not be a great distance from either;
+
+for sailors would not have carried their burden far from the ship. I glanced
+appealingly at Edgar. He was smiling happily over “Pickings from Puck.” We
+passed Asbury Park and Ocean Grove, halted at Sea Girt, and again at Manasquan;
+but Egdar did not move. The next station was Point Pleasant, and as the train
+drew to a stop, Edgar rose calmly and grasped his suit-case.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“We get out here,” he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawn up at the station were three open-work hacks with fringe around the top.
+From each a small boy waved at us with his whip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Curtis House? The Gladstone? The Cottage in the Pines?” they chanted
+invitingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Take me to a hardware store,” said Edgar, “where one can buy a spade.” When we
+stopped I made a move to get down; but Edgar stopped me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I protested indignantly, “I haven’t <i>much</i> to say about this expedition;”
+I exclaimed, “but, as <i>I</i> have to do the digging, I intend to choose my
+own spade.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar’s eye-glasses flashed defiance. “You have given your word to obey me,” he
+said sternly. “If you do not intend to obey me, you can return in ten minutes
+by the next train.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sank into my seat. In a moment the mutiny had been crushed. Not even a cabin
+boy had fallen! Edgar returned with a spade, an axe, and a pick. He placed them
+in the seat beside the boy driver.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“What is your name, boy?” he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Rupert,” said the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Rupert,” continued Edgar, “drive us to the beach. When you get to the bathing
+pavilions keep on along the shore toward Manasquan Inlet.” He touched the spade
+with his hand. “I have bought a building lot on the beach,” he explained, “and
+am going to dig a hole, and plant a flagpole.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was choked with indignation. As a writer of fiction my self-respect was
+insulted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If there are any more lies to be told,” I whispered, “please let <i>me</i>
+tell them. Your invention is crude, ridiculous! Why,” I demanded, “should
+anybody want to plant a flagpole on a wind-swept beach in October? It’s not the
+season for flagpoles. Besides,” I jeered, “where is your flagpole? Is it
+concealed in the suit-case?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar frowned uneasily, and touched the boy on the shoulder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The flagpole itself,” he explained, “is coming down to-morrow by express.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boy yawned, and slapped the flanks of his horse with the reins. “Gat up!”
+he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We crossed the railroad tracks and moved toward the ocean down a broad, sandy
+road. The season had passed and the windows of the cottages and bungalows on
+either side of the road were barricaded with planks. On the verandas hammocks
+abandoned to the winds hung in tatters, on the back porches the doors of empty
+refrigerators swung open on one hinge, and on every side above the fields of
+gorgeous golden-rod rose signs reading “For Rent.” When we had progressed in
+silence for a mile, the sandy avenue lost itself in the deeper sand of the
+beach, and the horse of his own will came to a halt. On one side we were
+surrounded by locked and deserted bathing houses, on the other by empty
+pavilions shuttered and barred against the winter, but still inviting one to
+“Try our salt water taffy” or to “<i>Keep cool</i> with an ice-cream soda.”
+Rupert turned and looked inquiringly at Edgar. To the north the beach stretched
+in an unbroken line to Manasquan Inlet. To the south three miles away we could
+see floating on the horizon-like a mirage the hotels and summer cottages of Bay
+Head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Drive toward the inlet,” directed Edgar. “This gentleman and I will walk.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Relieved of our weight, the horse stumbled bravely into the trackless sand,
+while below on the damper and firmer shingle we walked by the edge of the
+water.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tide was coming in and the spent waves, spreading before them an advance
+guard of tiny shells and pebbles, threatened our boots’ and at the same time in
+soothing, lazy whispers warned us of their attack. These lisping murmurs and
+the crash and roar of each incoming wave as it broke were the only sounds. And
+on the beach we were the only human figures. At last the scene began to bear
+some resemblance to one set for an adventure. The rolling ocean, a coast
+steamer dragging a great column of black smoke, and cast high upon the beach
+the wreck of a schooner, her masts tilting drunkenly, gave color to our
+purpose. It became filled with greater promise of drama, more picturesque. I
+began to thrill with excitement. I regarded Edgar appealingly, in eager
+supplication. At last he broke the silence that was torturing me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“We will now walk higher up,” he commanded. “If we get our feet wet, we may
+take cold.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My spirit was too far broken to make reply. But to my relief I saw that in
+leaving the beach Edgar had some second purpose. With each heavy step he was
+drawing toward two high banks of sand in a hollow behind which, protected by
+the banks, were three stunted, wind-driven pines. His words came back to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“So many what-you-may-call-’ems.” Were these pines the three somethings from
+something, the what-you-may-call-’ems? The thought chilled me to the spine. I
+gazed at them fascinated. I felt like falling on my knees in the sand and
+tearing their secret from them with my bare hands. I was strong enough to dig
+them up by the roots, strong enough to dig the Panama Canal! I glanced
+tremulously at Edgar. His eyes were wide open and, eloquent with dismay, his
+lower jaw had fallen. He turned and looked at me for the first time with
+consideration. Apology and remorse were written in every line of his
+countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I’m sorry, he stammered. I had a cruel premonition. I exclaimed with distress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You have lost the map!” I hissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“No, no,” protested Edgar; “but I entirely forgot to bring any lunch!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With violent mutterings I tore off my upper and outer garments and tossed them
+into the hack.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Where do I begin?” I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar pointed to a spot inside the triangle formed by the three trees and
+equally distant from each.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Put that horse behind the bank,” I commanded, “where no one can see him! And
+both you and Rupert keep off the sky-line!” From the north and south we were
+now all three hidden by the two high banks of sand; to the east lay the beach
+and the Atlantic Ocean, and to the west stretches of marshes that a mile away
+met a wood of pine trees and the railroad round-house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began to dig. I knew that weary hours lay before me, and I attacked the sand
+leisurely and with deliberation. It was at first no great effort; but as the
+hole grew in depth, and the roots of the trees were exposed, the work was
+sufficient for several men. Still, as Edgar had said, it is not every day that
+one can dig for treasure, and in thinking of what was to come I forgot my hands
+that quickly blistered, and my breaking back. After an hour I insisted that
+Edgar should take a turn; but he made such poor headway that my patience could
+not contain me, and I told him I was sufficiently rested and would continue.
+With alacrity he scrambled out of the hole, and, taking a cigar from my case,
+seated himself comfortably in the hack. I took my comfort in anticipating the
+thrill that would be mine when the spade would ring on the ironbound chest;
+when, with a blow of the axe, I would expose to view the hidden jewels, the
+pieces of eight, coated with verdigris, the string of pearls, the chains of
+yellow gold. Edgar had said a million dollars. That must mean there would be
+diamonds, many diamonds. I would hold them in my hands, watch them, at the
+sudden sunshine, blink their eyes and burst into tiny, burning fires. In
+imagination I would replace them in the setting, from which, years before, they
+had been stolen. I would try to guess whence they came from a jewelled chalice
+in some dim cathedral, from the breast of a great lady, from the hilt of an
+admiral’s sword.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After another hour I lifted my aching shoulders and, wiping the sweat from my
+eyes, looked over the edge of the hole. Rupert, with his back to the sand-hill,
+was asleep. Edgar with one hand was waving away the mosquitoes and in the other
+was holding one of the magazines he had bought on the way down. I could even
+see the page upon which his eyes were riveted. It was an advertisement for
+breakfast food. In my indignation the spade slipped through my cramped and
+perspiring fingers, and as it struck the bottom of the pit, something—a band of
+iron, a steel lock, an iron ring—gave forth a muffled sound. My heart stopped
+beating as suddenly as though Mr. Corbett had hit it with his closed fist. My
+blood turned to melted ice. I drove the spade down as fiercely as though it was
+a dagger. It sank into rotten wood. I had made no sound; for I could hardly
+breathe. But the slight noise of the blow had reached Edgar. I heard the
+springs of the hack creak as he vaulted from it, and the next moment he was
+towering above me, peering down into the pit. His eyes were wide with
+excitement, greed, and fear. In his hands he clutched the two suit-cases. Like
+a lion defending his cubs he glared at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Get out!” he shouted.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/img01.jpg" width="600" height="385" alt="[Illustration]" />
+<p class="caption">In his hands he clutched the two suit-cases. . . . “Get out!”
+he shouted.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+“Like hell!” I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Get out!” he roared. “I’ll do the rest. That’s mine, not yours! <i>Get
+out!</i>”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a swift kick I brushed away the sand. I found I was standing on a squat
+wooden box, bound with bands of rusty iron. I had only to stoop to touch it. It
+was so rotten that I could have torn it apart with my bare hands. Edgar was
+dancing on the edge of the pit, incidentally kicking sand into my mouth and
+nostrils.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You <i>promised</i> me!” he roared. “You <i>promised</i> to obey me!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You ass!” I shouted. “Haven’t I done all the work? Don’t I get——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You get out!” roared Edgar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Slowly, disgustedly, with what dignity one can display in crawling out of a
+sand-pit, I scrambled to the top.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Go over there,” commanded Edgar pointing, “and sit down.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In furious silence I seated myself beside Rupert. He was still slumbering and
+snoring happily. From where I sat I could see nothing of what was going forward
+in the pit, save once, when the head of Edgar, his eyes aflame and his hair and
+eye-glasses sprinkled with sand, appeared above it. Apparently he was fearful
+lest I had moved from the spot where he had placed me. I had not; but had he
+known my inmost feelings he would have taken the axe into the pit with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must have sat so for half an hour. In the sky above me a fish-hawk drifted
+lazily. From the beach sounded the steady beat of the waves, and from the town
+across the marshes came the puffing of a locomotive and the clanging bells of
+the freight trains. The breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on my aching body;
+but it could not cool the rage in my heart. If I had the courage of my
+feelings, I would have cracked Edgar over head with the spade, buried him in
+the pit, bribed Rupert, and forever after lived happily on my ill-gotten gains.
+That was how Kidd, or Morgan, or Blackbeard would have acted. I cursed the
+effete civilization which had taught me to want many pleasures but had left me
+with a conscience that would not let me take human life to obtain them, not
+even Edgar’s life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In half an hour a suit-case was lifted into view and dropped on the edge of the
+pit. It was followed by the other, and then by Edgar. Without asking me to help
+him, because he probably knew I would not, he shovelled the sand into the hole,
+and then placed the suitcases in the carriage. With increasing anger I observed
+that the contents of each were so heavy that to lift it he used both hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“There is no use your asking any questions,” he announced, “because I won’t
+answer them.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave him minute directions as to where he could go; but instead we drove in
+black silence to the station. There Edgar rewarded Rupert with a dime, and
+while we waited for the train to New York placed the two suit-cases against the
+wall of the ticket office and sat upon them. When the train arrived he warned
+me in a hoarse whisper that I had promised to help him guard the treasure, and
+gave me one of the suit-cases. It weighed a ton. Just to spite Edgar, I had a
+plan to kick it open, so that every one on the platform might scramble for the
+contents. But again my infernal New England conscience restrained me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar had secured the drawing-room in the parlor-car, and when we were safely
+inside and the door bolted my curiosity became stronger than my pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Edgar,” I said, “your ingratitude is contemptible. Your suspicions are
+ridiculous; but, under these most unusual conditions, I don’t blame you. But we
+are quite safe now. The door is fastened,” I pointed out ingratiatingly, “it
+and this train doesn’t stop for another forty minutes. I think this would be an
+excellent time to look at the treasure.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t!” said Edgar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sank back into my chair. With intense enjoyment I imagined the train in which
+we were seated hurling itself into another train; and everybody, including
+Edgar, or, rather, especially Edgar, being instantly but painlessly killed. By
+such an act of an all-wise Providence I would at once become heir to one
+million dollars. It was a beautiful, satisfying dream. Even MY conscience
+accepted it with a smug smile. It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily
+expectant, waiting for the crash to come, for the shrieks and screams, for the
+rush of escaping steam and breaking window-panes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it was far too good to be true. Without a jar the train carried us and its
+precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal. And each, with half a
+million dollars in his hand, hurried to the ferry, assailed by porters,
+news-boys, hackmen. To them we were a couple of commuters saving a dime by
+carrying our own hand-bags.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now six o’clock, and I pointed out to Edgar that at that hour the only
+vaults open were those of the Night and Day Bank. And to that institution in a
+taxicab we at once made our way. I paid the chauffeur, and two minutes later,
+with a gasp of relief and rejoicing, I dropped the suit-case I had carried on a
+table in the steel-walled fastnesses of the vaults. Gathered excitedly around
+us were the officials of the bank, summoned hastily from above, and watchmen in
+plain clothes, and watchmen in uniforms of gray. Great bars as thick as my leg
+protected us. Walls of chilled steel rising from solid rock stood between our
+treasure and the outer world. Until then I had not known how tremendous the
+nervous strain had been; but now it came home to me. I mopped the perspiration
+from my forehead, I drew a deep breath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Edgar,” I exclaimed happily, “I congratulate you!” I found Edgar extending
+toward me a two-dollar bill. “You gave the chauffeur two dollars,”’ he said.
+“The fare was really one dollar eighty; so you owe me twenty cents.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mechanically I laid two dimes upon the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“All the other expenses,” continued Edgar, “which I agreed to pay, I have
+paid.” He made a peremptory gesture. “I won’t detain you any longer,” he said.
+“Good-night!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Good-night!” I cried. “Don’t I see the treasure?” Against the walls of chilled
+steel my voice rose like that of a tortured soul. “Don’t I touch it!” I yelled.
+“Don’t I even get a squint?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the watchmen looked sorry for me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You do not!” said Edgar calmly. “You have fulfilled your part of the
+agreement. I have fulfilled mine. A year from now you can write the story.” As
+I moved in a dazed state toward the steel door, his voice halted me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And you can say in your story,” called Edgar, “that there is only one way to
+get a buried treasure. That is to go, and get it!”
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BURIED TREASURE ***</div>
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1761 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1761)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Buried Treasure, by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: My Buried Treasure
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Posting Date: October 23, 2008 [EBook #1761]
+Release Date: May, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY BURIED TREASURE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Aaron Cannon
+
+
+
+
+
+MY BURIED TREASURE
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+This is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The only part
+that is not true is the name of the man with whom I searched for the
+treasure. Unless I keep his name out of it he will not let me write the
+story, and, as it was his expedition and as my share of the treasure is
+only what I can make by writing the story, I must write as he dictates.
+I think the story should be told, because our experience was unique, and
+might be of benefit to others. And, besides, I need the money.
+
+There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing him as I
+think he is, or reporting, as accurately as I can, what he said and did
+as he said and did it.
+
+For purposes of identification I shall call him Edgar Powell. The last
+name has no significance; but the first name is not chosen at random.
+The leader of our expedition, the head and brains of it, was and is the
+sort of man one would address as Edgar. No one would think of calling
+him "Ed," or "Eddie," any more than he would consider slapping him on
+the back.
+
+We were together at college; but, as six hundred other boys were there
+at the same time, that gives no clew to his identity. Since those days,
+until he came to see me about the treasure, we had not met. All I
+knew of him was that he had succeeded his father in manufacturing
+unshrinkable flannels. Of course, the reader understands that is not
+the article of commerce he manufactures; but it is near enough, and it
+suggests the line of business to which he gives his life's blood. It is
+not similar to my own line of work, and in consequence, when he wrote
+me, on the unshrinkable flannels official writing-paper, that he wished
+to see me in reference to a matter of business of "mutual benefit," I
+was considerably puzzled.
+
+A few days later, at nine in the morning, an hour of his own choosing,
+he came to my rooms in New York City.
+
+Except that he had grown a beard, he was as I remembered him, thin and
+tall, but with no chest, and stooping shoulders. He wore eye-glasses,
+and as of old through these he regarded you disapprovingly and warily
+as though he suspected you might try to borrow money, or even joke with
+him. As with Edgar I had never felt any temptation to do either, this
+was irritating.
+
+But from force of former habit we greeted each other by our first names,
+and he suspiciously accepted a cigar. Then, after fixing me both with
+his eyes and with his eye-glasses and swearing me to secrecy, he began
+abruptly.
+
+"Our mills," he said, "are in New Bedford; and I own several small
+cottages there and in Fairhaven. I rent them out at a moderate rate. The
+other day one of my tenants, a Portuguese sailor, was taken suddenly ill
+and sent for me. He had made many voyages in and out of Bedford to the
+South Seas, whaling, and he told me on his last voyage he had touched
+at his former home at Teneriffe. There his grandfather had given him a
+document that had been left him by his father. His grandfather said
+it contained an important secret, but one that was of value only in
+America, and that when he returned to that continent he must be very
+careful to whom he showed it. He told me it was written in a kind of
+English he could not understand, and that he had been afraid to let any
+one see it. He wanted me to accept the document in payment of the rent
+he owed me, with the understanding that I was not to look at it, and
+that if he got well I was to give it back. If he pulled through, he was
+to pay me in some other way; but if he died I was to keep the document.
+About a month ago he died, and I examined the paper. It purports to tell
+where there is buried a pirate's treasure. And," added Edgar, gazing at
+me severely and as though he challenged me to contradict him, "I intend
+to dig for it!"
+
+Had he told me he contemplated crossing the Rocky Mountains in a Baby
+Wright, or leading a cotillon, I could not have been more astonished. I
+am afraid I laughed aloud.
+
+"You!" I exclaimed. "Search for buried treasure?"
+
+My tone visibly annoyed him. Even the eye-glasses radiated disapproval.
+
+"I see nothing amusing in the idea," Edgar protested coldly. "It is a
+plain business proposition. I find the outlay will be small, and if I
+am successful the returns should be large; at a rough estimate about one
+million dollars."
+
+Even to-day, no true American, at the thought of one million dollars,
+can remain covered. His letter to me had said, "for our mutual benefit."
+I became respectful and polite, I might even say abject. After all, the
+ties that bind us in those dear old college days are not lightly to be
+disregarded.
+
+"If I can be of any service to you, Edgar, old man," I assured him
+heartily, "if I can help you find it, you know I shall be only too
+happy." With regret I observed that my generous offer did not seem to
+deeply move him.
+
+"I came to you in this matter," he continued stiffly, "because you
+seemed to be the sort of person who would be interested in a search for
+buried treasure."
+
+"I am," I exclaimed. "Always have been."
+
+"Have you," he demanded searchingly, "any practical experience?"
+
+I tried to appear at ease; but I knew then just how the man who applies
+to look after your furnace feels, when you ask him if he can also run a
+sixty horse-power dynamo.
+
+"I have never actually FOUND any buried treasure," I admitted; "but
+I know where lots of it is, and I know just how to go after it." I
+endeavored to dazzle him with expert knowledge.
+
+"Of course," I went on airily, "I am familiar with all the expeditions
+that have tried for the one on Cocos Island, and I know all about the
+Peruvian treasure on Trinidad, and the lost treasures of Jalisco near
+Guadalajara, and the sunken galleon on the Grand Cayman, and when I was
+on the Isle of Pines I had several very tempting offers to search there.
+And the late Captain Boynton invited me----"
+
+"But," interrupted Edgar in a tone that would tolerate no trifling, "you
+yourself have never financed or organized an expedition with the object
+in view of----"
+
+"Oh, that part's easy!" I assured him. "The fitting-out part you can
+safely leave to me." I assumed a confidence that I hoped he might
+believe was real. "There's always a tramp steamer in the Erie Basin,"
+I said, "that one can charter for any kind of adventure, and I have the
+addresses of enough soldiers of fortune, filibusters, and professional
+revolutionists to man a battle-ship, all fine fellows in a tight corner.
+And I'll promise you they'll follow us to hell, and back----"
+
+"That!" exclaimed Edgar, "is exactly what I feared!"
+
+"I beg your pardon!" I exclaimed.
+
+"That's exactly what I DON'T want," said Edgar sternly. "I don't INTEND
+to get into any tight corners. I don't WANT to go to hell!"
+
+I saw that in my enthusiasm I had perhaps alarmed him. I continued more
+temperately.
+
+"Any expedition after treasure," I pointed out, "is never without risk.
+You must have discipline, and you must have picked men. Suppose there's
+a mutiny? Suppose they try to rob us of the treasure on our way home? We
+must have men we can rely on, and men who know how to pump a Winchester.
+I can get you both. And Bannerman will furnish me with anything from a
+pair of leggins to a quick firing gun, and on Clark Street they'll quote
+me a special rate on ship stores, hydraulic pumps, divers' helmets----"
+
+Edgar's eye-glasses became frosted with cold, condemnatory scorn. He
+shook his head disgustedly.
+
+"I was afraid of this!" he murmured.
+
+I endeavored to reassure him.
+
+"A little danger," I laughed, "only adds to the fun."
+
+"I want you to understand," exclaimed Edgar indignantly, "there isn't
+going to be any danger. There isn't going to be any fun. This is a plain
+business proposition. I asked you those questions just to test you. And
+you approached the matter exactly as I feared you would. I was prepared
+for it. In fact," he explained shamefacedly, "I've read several of your
+little stories, and I find they run to adventure and blood and thunder;
+they are not of the analytical school of fiction. Judging from them,"
+he added accusingly, "you have a tendency to the romantic." He spoke
+reluctantly as though saying I had a tendency to epileptic fits or the
+morphine habit.
+
+"I am afraid," I was forced to admit, "that to me pirates and buried
+treasure always suggest adventure. And your criticism of my writings is
+well observed. Others have discovered the same fatal weakness. We cannot
+all," I pointed out, "manufacture unshrinkable flannels."
+
+At this compliment to his more fortunate condition, Edgar seemed to
+soften.
+
+"I grant you," he said, "that the subject has almost invariably been
+approached from the point of view you take. And what," he demanded
+triumphantly, "has been the result? Failure, or at least, before success
+was attained, a most unnecessary and regrettable loss of blood and life.
+Now, on my expedition, I do not intend that any blood shall be shed, or
+that anybody shall lose his life. I have not entered into this matter
+hastily. I have taken out information, and mean to benefit by other
+people's mistakes. When I decided to go on with this," he explained,
+"I read all the books that bear on searches for buried treasure, and I
+found that in each case the same mistakes were made, and that then,
+in order to remedy the mistakes, it was invariably necessary to kill
+somebody. Now, by not making those mistakes, it will not be necessary
+for me to kill any one, and nobody is going to have a chance to kill me.
+
+"You propose that we fit out a schooner and sign on a crew. What will
+happen? A man with a sabre cut across his forehead, or with a black
+patch over one eye, will inevitably be one of that crew. And, as soon as
+we sail, he will at once begin to plot against us. A cabin boy who the
+conspirators think is asleep in his bunk will overhear their plot and
+will run to the quarter-deck to give warning; but a pistol shot rings
+out, and the cabin boy falls at the foot of the companion ladder. The
+cabin boy is always the first one to go. After that the mutineers kill
+the first mate, and lock us in our cabin, and take over the ship. They
+will then broach a cask of rum, and all through the night we will listen
+to their drunken howlings, and from the cabin airport watch the body of
+the first mate rolling in the lee scuppers."
+
+"But you forget," I protested eagerly, "there is always ONE faithful
+member of the crew, who----"
+
+Edgar interrupted me impatiently.
+
+"I have not overlooked him," he said. "He is a Jamaica negro of gigantic
+proportions, or the ship's cook; but he always gets his too, and he gets
+it good. They throw HIM to the sharks! Then we all camp out on a
+desert island inhabited only by goats, and we build a stockade, and the
+mutineers come to treat with us under a white flag, and we, trusting
+entirely to their honor, are fools enough to go out and talk with them.
+At which they shoot us up, and withdraw laughing scornfully." Edgar
+fixed his eye-glasses upon me accusingly.
+
+"Am I right, or am I wrong?" he demanded. I was unable to answer.
+"The only man," continued Edgar warmly, "who ever showed the slightest
+intelligence in the matter was the fellow in the 'Gold Bug'. HE kept his
+mouth shut. He never let any one know that he was after buried treasure,
+until he found it. That's me! Now I know EXACTLY where this treasure is,
+and----"
+
+I suppose, involuntarily, I must have given a start of interest; for
+Edgar paused and shook his head, slyly and cunningly. "And if you think
+I have the map on my person now," he declared in triumph, "you'll have
+to guess again!"
+
+"Really," I protested, "I had no intention----"
+
+"Not you, perhaps," said Edgar grudgingly; "but your Japanese valet
+conceals himself behind those curtains, follows me home, and at
+night----"
+
+"I haven't got a valet," I objected.
+
+Edgar merely smiled with the most aggravating self-sufficiency. "It
+makes no difference," he declared. "NO ONE will ever find that map,
+or see that map, or know where that treasure is, until I point to the
+spot."
+
+"Your caution is admirable," I said; "but what," I jeered, "makes you
+think you can point to the spot, because your map says something like,
+'Through the Sunken Valley to Witch's Caldron, four points N. by N. E.
+to Gallows Hill where the shadow falls at sunrise, fifty fathoms west,
+fifty paces north as the crow flies, to the Seven Wells'? How the
+deuce," I demanded, "is any one going to point to that spot?"
+
+"It isn't that kind of map," shouted Edgar triumphantly. "If it had
+been, I wouldn't have gone on with it. It's a map anybody can read
+except a half-caste Portuguese sailor. It's as plain as a laundry bill.
+It says," he paused apprehensively, and then continued with caution, "it
+says at such and such a place there is a something. So many somethings
+from that something are three what-you-may-call-'ems, and in the centre
+of these three what-you-may-call-'ems is buried the treasure. It's as
+plain as that!"
+
+"Even with the few details you have let escape you," I said, "I could
+find THAT spot in my sleep."
+
+"I don't think you could," said Edgar uncomfortably; but I could see
+that he had mentally warned himself to be less communicative. "And," he
+went on, "I am willing to lead you to it, if you subscribe to certain
+conditions."
+
+Edgar's insulting caution had ruffled my spirit.
+
+"Why do you think you can trust ME?" I asked haughtily. And then,
+remembering my share of the million dollars, I added in haste, "I accept
+the conditions."
+
+"Of course, as you say, one has got to take SOME risk," Edgar continued;
+"but I feel sure," he said, regarding me doubtfully, "you would not
+stoop to open robbery." I thanked him.
+
+"Well, until one is tempted," said Edgar, "one never knows WHAT he
+might do. And I've simply GOT to have one other man, and I picked on you
+because I thought you could write about it."
+
+"I see," I said, "I am to act as the historian of the expedition."
+
+"That will be arranged later," said Edgar. "What I chiefly want you for
+is to dig. Can you dig?" he asked eagerly. I told him I could; but that
+I would rather do almost anything else.
+
+"I MUST have one other man," repeated Edgar, "a man who is strong enough
+to dig, and strong enough to resist the temptation to murder me." The
+retort was so easy that I let it pass. Besides, on Edgar, it would have
+been wasted.
+
+"I THINK you will do," he said with reluctance. "And now the
+conditions!"
+
+I smiled agreeably.
+
+"You are already sworn to secrecy," said Edgar. "And you now agree in
+every detail to obey me implicitly, and to accompany me to a certain
+place, where you will dig. If I find the treasure, you agree, to help
+me guard it, and convey it to wherever I decide it is safe to leave it.
+Your responsibility is then at an end. One year after the treasure is
+discovered, you will be free to write the account of the expedition. For
+what you write, some magazine may pay you. What it pays you will be your
+share of the treasure."
+
+Of my part of the million dollars, which I had hastily calculated
+could not be less than one-fifth, I had already spent over one hundred
+thousand dollars and was living far beyond my means. I had bought a farm
+with a waterfront on the Sound, a motor-boat, and, as I was not sure
+which make I preferred, three automobiles. I had at my own, expense
+produced a play of mine that no manager had appreciated, and its name
+in electric lights was already blinding Broadway. I had purchased a
+Hollander express rifle, a REAL amber cigar holder, a private secretary
+who could play both rag-time and tennis, and a fur coat. So Edgar's
+generous offer left me naked. When I had again accustomed myself to the
+narrow confines of my flat, and the jolt of the surface cars, I asked
+humbly:
+
+"Is that ALL I get?"
+
+"Why should you expect any more?" demanded Edgar. "It isn't YOUR
+treasure. You wouldn't expect me to make you a present of an interest
+in my mills; why should you get a share of my treasure?" He gazed at me
+reproachfully. "I thought you'd be pleased," he said. "It must be hard
+to think of things to write about, and I'm giving you a subject for
+nothing. I thought," he remonstrated, "you'd jump at the chance. It
+isn't every day a man can dig for buried treasure."
+
+"That's all right," I said. "Perhaps I appreciate that quite as well as
+you do. But my time has a certain small value, and I can't leave my work
+just for excitement. We may be weeks, months---- How long do you think
+we----"
+
+Behind his eye-glasses Edgar winked reprovingly.
+
+"That is a leading question," he said. "I will pay all your legitimate
+expenses--transportation, food, lodging. It won't cost you a cent. And
+you write the story--with my name left out," he added hastily; "it would
+hurt my standing in the trade," he explained--"and get paid for it."
+
+I saw a sea voyage at Edgar's expense. I saw palm leaves, coral reefs. I
+felt my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and shoulders as I
+drove my pick into the chest of gold.
+
+"I'll go with you!" I said. We shook hands on it. "When do we start?" I
+asked.
+
+"Now!" said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched upon
+one of my pet vanities.
+
+"You can't do that with me!" I said. "My bags are packed and ready for
+any place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can start this
+minute. Where is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast, the Spanish
+Main----"
+
+Edgar frowned inscrutably. "Have you an empty suit-case?" he asked.
+
+"Why EMPTY?" I demanded.
+
+"To carry the treasure," said Edgar. "I left mine in the hall. We will
+need two."
+
+"And your trunks?" I said.
+
+"There aren't going to be any trunks," said Edgar. From his pocket he
+had taken a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. "If we hurry," he
+exclaimed, "we can catch the ten-thirty express, and return to New York
+in time for dinner."
+
+"And what about the treasure?" I roared.
+
+"We'll' bring it with us," said Edgar.
+
+I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused both. I
+insisted that I might be allowed at least to carry my automatic pistol.
+"Suppose some one tries to take the treasure from us?" I pointed out.
+
+"No one," said Edgar severely, "would be such an ass as to imagine we
+are carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it contains
+pajamas."
+
+"For local color, then," I begged, "I want to say in my story that I
+went heavily armed."
+
+"Say it, then," snapped Edgar. "But you can't DO it! Not with me, you
+can't! How do I know you mightn't----" He shook his head warily.
+
+It was a day in early October, the haze of Indian summer was in the air,
+and as we crossed the North River by the Twenty-third Street Ferry
+the sun flashed upon the white clouds overhead and the tumbling waters
+below. On each side of us great vessels with the Blue Peter at the fore
+lay at the wharfs ready to cast off, or were already nosing their way
+down the channel toward strange and beautiful ports. Lamport and Holt
+were rolling down to Rio; the Royal Mail's MAGDALENA, no longer "white
+and gold," was off to Kingston, where once seven pirates swung in
+chains; the CLYDE was on her way to Hayti where the buccaneers came
+from; the MORRO CASTLE was bound for Havana, which Morgan, king of all
+the pirates, had once made his own; and the RED D was steaming to Porto
+Cabello where Sir Francis Drake, as big a buccaneer as any of them, lies
+entombed in her harbor. And I was setting forth on a buried-treasure
+expedition on a snub-nosed, flat-bellied, fresh-water ferry-boat, bound
+for Jersey City! No one will ever know my sense of humiliation. And,
+when the Italian boy insulted my immaculate tan shoes by pointing at
+them and saying, "Shine?" I could have slain him. Fancy digging for
+buried treasure in freshly varnished boots! But Edgar did not mind.
+To him there was nothing lacking; it was just as it should be. He was
+deeply engrossed in calculating how many offices were for rent in the
+Singer Building!
+
+When we reached the other side, he refused to answer any of my eager
+questions. He would not let me know even for what place on the line he
+had purchased our tickets, and, as a hint that I should not disturb him,
+he stuffed into my hands the latest magazines. "At least tell me this,"
+I demanded. "Have you ever been to this place before to-day?"
+
+"Once," said Edgar shortly, "last week. That's when I found out I would
+need some one with me who could dig."
+
+"How do you know it's the RIGHT place?" I whispered.
+
+The summer season was over, and of the chair car we were the only
+occupants; but, before he answered, Edgar looked cautiously round him
+and out of the window. We had just passed Red Bank.
+
+"Because the map told me," he answered. "Suppose," he continued
+fretfully, "you had a map of New York City with the streets marked on it
+plainly? Suppose the map said that if you walked to where Broadway and
+Fifth Avenue meet, you would find the Flatiron Building. Do you think
+you could find it?"
+
+"Was it as easy as THAT?" I gasped.
+
+"It was as easy as THAT!" said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair and let the magazines slide to the floor. What
+fiction story was there in any one of them so enthralling as the actual
+possibilities that lay before me? In two hours I might be bending over a
+pot of gold, a sea chest stuffed with pearls and rubies!
+
+I began to recall all the stories I had heard as a boy of treasure
+buried along the coast by Kidd on his return voyage from the Indies.
+Where along the Jersey sea-line were there safe harbors? The train
+on which we were racing south had its rail head at Barnegat Bay. And
+between Barnegat and Red Bank there now was but one other inlet, that
+of the Manasquan River. It might be Barnegat; it might be Manasquan.
+It could not be a great distance from either; toward the ocean down a
+broad, sandy road. The season had passed and the windows of the cottages
+and bungalows on either side of the road were barricaded with planks.
+On the verandas hammocks abandoned to the winds hung in tatters, on the
+back porches the doors of empty refrigerators swung open on one hinge,
+and on every side above the fields of gorgeous golden-rod rose signs
+reading "For Rent." When we had progressed in silence for a mile, the
+sandy avenue lost itself in the deeper sand of the beach, and the horse
+of his own will came to a halt.
+
+On one side we were surrounded by locked and deserted bathing houses,
+on the other by empty pavilions shuttered and barred against the winter,
+but still inviting one to "Try our salt water taffy" or to "Keep cool
+with an ice-cream soda." Rupert turned and looked inquiringly at Edgar.
+To the north the beach stretched in an unbroken line to Manasquan Inlet.
+To the south three miles away we could see floating on the horizon-like
+a mirage the hotels and summer cottages of Bay Head.
+
+"Drive toward the inlet," directed Edgar. "This gentleman and I will
+walk."
+
+Relieved of our weight, the horse stumbled bravely into the trackless
+sand, while below on the damper and firmer shingle we walked by the edge
+of the water.
+
+The tide was coming in and the spent waves, spreading before them an
+advance guard of tiny shells and pebbles, threatened our boots' and
+at the same time in soothing, lazy whispers warned us of their attack.
+These lisping murmurs and the crash and roar of each incoming wave as
+it broke were the only sounds. And on the beach we were the only human
+figures. At last the scene began to bear some resemblance to one set for
+an adventure. The rolling ocean, a coast steamer dragging a great column
+of black smoke, and cast high upon the beach the wreck of a schooner,
+her masts tilting drunkenly, gave color to our purpose. It became filled
+with greater promise of drama, more picturesque. I began to thrill with
+excitement. I regarded Edgar appealingly, in eager supplication. At last
+he broke the silence that was torturing me.
+
+"We will now walk higher up," he commanded. "If we get our feet wet, we
+may take cold."
+
+My spirit was too far broken to make reply. But to my relief I saw that
+in leaving the beach Edgar had some second purpose. With each heavy step
+he was drawing toward two high banks of sand in a hollow behind which,
+protected by the banks, were three stunted, wind-driven pines. His words
+came back to me.
+
+"So many what-you-may-call-'ems." Were these pines the three somethings
+from something, the what-you-may-call-'ems? The thought chilled me to
+the spine. I gazed at them fascinated. I felt like falling on my knees
+in the sand and tearing their secret from them with my bare hands. I
+was strong enough to dig them up by the roots, strong enough to dig the
+Panama Canal! I glanced tremulously at Edgar. His eyes were wide open
+and, eloquent with dismay, his lower jaw had fallen. He turned and
+looked at me for the first time with consideration. Apology and remorse
+were written in every line of his countenance.
+
+I'm sorry, he stammered. I had a cruel premonition. I exclaimed with
+distress.
+
+"You have lost the map!" I hissed.
+
+"No, no," protested Edgar; "but I entirely forgot to bring any lunch!"
+
+With violent mutterings I tore off my upper and outer garments and
+tossed them into the hack.
+
+"Where do I begin?" I asked.
+
+Edgar pointed to a spot inside the triangle formed by the three trees
+and equally distant from each.
+
+"Put that horse behind the bank," I commanded, "where no one can see
+him! And both you and Rupert keep off the sky-line!" From the north and
+south we were now all three hidden by the two high banks of sand; to the
+east lay the beach and the Atlantic Ocean, and to the west stretches
+of marshes that a mile away met a wood of pine trees and the railroad
+round-house.
+
+I began to dig. I knew that weary hours lay before me, and I attacked
+the sand leisurely and with deliberation. It was at first no great
+effort; but as the hole grew in depth, and the roots of the trees were
+exposed, the work was sufficient for several men. Still, as Edgar had
+said, it is not every day that one can dig for treasure, and in thinking
+of what was to come I forgot my hands that quickly blistered, and my
+breaking back. After an hour I insisted that Edgar should take a turn;
+but he made such poor headway that my patience could not contain me, and
+I told him I was sufficiently rested and would continue. With alacrity
+he scrambled out of the hole, and, taking a cigar from my case, seated
+himself comfortably in the hack. I took my comfort in anticipating the
+thrill that would be mine when the spade would ring on the ironbound
+chest; when, with a blow of the axe, I would expose to view the hidden
+jewels, the pieces of eight, coated with verdigris, the string of
+pearls, the chains of yellow gold. Edgar had said a million dollars.
+That must mean there would be diamonds, many diamonds. I would hold them
+in my hands, watch them, at the sudden sunshine, blink their eyes and
+burst into tiny, burning fires. In imagination I would replace them in
+the setting, from which, years before, they had been stolen. I would try
+to guess whence they came from a jewelled chalice in some dim cathedral,
+from the breast of a great lady, from the hilt of an admiral's sword.
+
+After another hour I lifted my aching shoulders and, wiping the sweat
+from my eyes, looked over the edge of the hole. Rupert, with his back
+to the sand-hill, was asleep. Edgar with one hand was waving away the
+mosquitoes and in the other was holding one of the magazines he had
+bought on the way down. I could even see the page upon which his
+eyes were riveted. It was an advertisement for breakfast food. In my
+indignation the spade slipped through my cramped and perspiring fingers,
+and as it struck the bottom of the pit, something--a band of iron, a
+steel lock, an iron ring--gave forth a muffled sound. My heart stopped
+beating as suddenly as though Mr. Corbett had hit it with his closed
+fist. My blood turned to melted ice. I drove the spade down as fiercely
+as though it was a dagger. It sank into rotten wood. I had made no
+sound; for I could hardly breathe. But the slight noise of the blow had
+reached Edgar. I heard the springs of the hack creak as he vaulted from
+it, and the next moment he was towering above me, peering down into the
+pit. His eyes were wide with excitement, greed, and fear. In his hands
+he clutched the two suit-cases. Like a lion defending his cubs he glared
+at me.
+
+"Get out!" he shouted.
+
+"Like hell!" I said.
+
+"Get out!" he roared. "I'll do the rest. That's mine, not yours! GET
+OUT!"
+
+With a swift kick I brushed away the sand. I found I was standing on a
+squat wooden box, bound with bands of rusty iron. I had only to stoop to
+touch it. It was so rotten that I could have torn it apart with my bare
+hands. Edgar was dancing on the edge of the pit, incidentally kicking
+sand into my mouth and nostrils.
+
+"You PROMISED me!" he roared. "You PROMISED to obey me!"
+
+"You ass!" I shouted. "Haven't I done all the work? Don't I get----"
+
+"You get out!" roared Edgar.
+
+Slowly, disgustedly, with what dignity one can display in crawling out
+of a sand-pit, I scrambled to the top.
+
+"Go over there," commanded Edgar pointing, "and sit down."
+
+In furious silence I seated myself beside Rupert. He was still
+slumbering and snoring happily. From where I sat I could see nothing of
+what was going forward in the pit, save once, when the head of Edgar,
+his eyes aflame and his hair and eye-glasses sprinkled with sand,
+appeared above it. Apparently he was fearful lest I had moved from
+the spot where he had placed me. I had not; but had he known my inmost
+feelings he would have taken the axe into the pit with him.
+
+I must have sat so for half an hour. In the sky above me a fish-hawk
+drifted lazily. From the beach sounded the steady beat of the waves, and
+from the town across the marshes came the puffing of a locomotive and
+the clanging bells of the freight trains. The breeze from the sea cooled
+the sweat on my aching body; but it could not cool the rage in my heart.
+If I had the courage of my feelings, I would have cracked Edgar over
+head with the spade, buried him in the pit, bribed Rupert, and forever
+after lived happily on my ill-gotten gains. That was how Kidd, or
+Morgan, or Blackbeard would have acted. I cursed the effete civilization
+which had taught me to want many pleasures but had left me with a
+conscience that would not let me take human life to obtain them, not
+even Edgar's life.
+
+In half an hour a suit-case was lifted into view and dropped on the edge
+of the pit. It was followed by the other, and then by Edgar. Without
+asking me to help him, because he probably knew I would not, he
+shovelled the sand into the hole, and then placed the suitcases in the
+carriage. With increasing anger I observed that the contents of each
+were so heavy that to lift it he used both hands.
+
+"There is no use your asking any questions," he announced, "because I
+won't answer them."
+
+I gave him minute directions as to where he could go; but instead we
+drove in black silence to the station. There Edgar rewarded Rupert with
+a dime, and while we waited for the train to New York placed the two
+suit-cases against the wall of the ticket office and sat upon them. When
+the train arrived he warned me in a hoarse whisper that I had promised
+to help him guard the treasure, and gave me one of the suit-cases. It
+weighed a ton. Just to spite Edgar, I had a plan to kick it open, so
+that every one on the platform might scramble for the contents. But
+again my infernal New England conscience restrained me.
+
+Edgar had secured the drawing-room in the parlor-car, and when we were
+safely inside and the door bolted my curiosity became stronger than my
+pride.
+
+"Edgar," I said, "your ingratitude is contemptible. Your suspicions are
+ridiculous; but, under these most unusual conditions, I don't blame
+you. But we are quite safe now. The door is fastened," I pointed
+out ingratiatingly, "it and this train doesn't stop for another forty
+minutes. I think this would be an excellent time to look at the
+treasure."
+
+"I don't!" said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair. With intense enjoyment I imagined the
+train in which we were seated hurling itself into another train;
+and everybody, including Edgar, or, rather, especially Edgar, being
+instantly but painlessly killed. By such an act of an all-wise
+Providence I would at once become heir to one million dollars. It was a
+beautiful, satisfying dream. Even MY conscience accepted it with a smug
+smile. It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily expectant, waiting
+for the crash to come, for the shrieks and screams, for the rush of
+escaping steam and breaking window-panes.
+
+But it was far too good to be true. Without a jar the train carried us
+and its precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal. And each,
+with half a million dollars in his hand, hurried to the ferry, assailed
+by porters, news-boys, hackmen. To them we were a couple of commuters
+saving a dime by carrying our own hand-bags.
+
+It was now six o'clock, and I pointed out to Edgar that at that hour
+the only vaults open were those of the Night and Day Bank. And to that
+institution in a taxicab we at once made our way. I paid the chauffeur,
+and two minutes later, with a gasp of relief and rejoicing, I dropped
+the suit-case I had carried on a table in the steel-walled fastnesses of
+the vaults. Gathered excitedly around us were the officials of the bank,
+summoned hastily from above, and watchmen in plain clothes, and watchmen
+in uniforms of gray. Great bars as thick as my leg protected us. Walls
+of chilled steel rising from solid rock stood between our treasure and
+the outer world. Until then I had not known how tremendous the nervous
+strain had been; but now it came home to me. I mopped the perspiration
+from my forehead, I drew a deep breath.
+
+"Edgar," I exclaimed happily, "I congratulate you!" I found Edgar
+extending toward me a two-dollar bill. "You gave the chauffeur two
+dollars,"' he said. "The fare was really one dollar eighty; so you owe
+me twenty cents."
+
+Mechanically I laid two dimes upon the table.
+
+"All the other expenses," continued Edgar, "which I agreed to pay,
+I have paid." He made a peremptory gesture. "I won't detain you any
+longer," he said. "Good-night!"
+
+"Good-night!" I cried. "Don't I see the treasure?" Against the walls of
+chilled steel my voice rose like that of a tortured soul. "Don't I touch
+it!" I yelled. "Don't I even get a squint?"
+
+Even the watchmen looked sorry for me.
+
+"You do not!" said Edgar calmly. "You have fulfilled your part of the
+agreement. I have fulfilled mine. A year from now you can write the
+story." As I moved in a dazed state toward the steel door, his voice
+halted me.
+
+"And you can say in your story," called Edgar, "that there is only one
+way to get a buried treasure. That is to go, and get it!"
+
+THE CONSUL
+
+For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man
+Marshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He had
+been appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was his
+distinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as each new
+administration succeeded the old, it had again and again saved his
+official head. When victorious and voracious place-hunters, searching
+the map of the world for spoils, dug out his hiding-place and demanded
+his consular sign as a reward for a younger and more aggressive party
+worker, the ghost of the dead President protected him. In the State
+Department, Marshall had become a tradition. "You can't touch Him!"
+the State Department would say; "why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!"
+Secretly, for this weapon against the hungry headhunters, the department
+was infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its own
+heart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he was
+sent, there, without question, he would go. Never against exile, against
+ill-health, against climate did he make complaint. Nor when he was moved
+on and down to make way for some ne'er-do-well with influence, with a
+brother-in-law in the Senate, with a cousin owning a newspaper, with
+rich relatives who desired him to drink himself to death at the expense
+of the government rather than at their own, did old man Marshall point
+to his record as a claim for more just treatment.
+
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a quaint,
+stately hand, were models of English; full of information, intelligent,
+valuable, well observed. And those few of his countrymen, who stumbled
+upon him in the out-of-the-world places to which of late he had been
+banished, wrote of him to the department in terms of admiration and awe.
+Never had he or his friends petitioned for promotion, until it was
+at last apparent that, save for his record and the memory of his dead
+patron, he had no friends. But, still in the department the tradition
+held and, though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.
+
+"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since the
+Civil War," protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to me, Mr.
+Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he give some
+one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that has borne the
+brunt----"
+
+"This place he now holds," interrupted the Secretary of State suavely,
+"is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I can't pronounce
+the name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is, but I see that, of
+the last six consuls we sent there, three resigned within a month and
+the other three died of yellow-fever. Still, if you insist----"
+
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. "I'm not the sort,"
+he protested, "to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President.
+Besides, he's so old now, if the fever don't catch him, he'll die of old
+age, anyway."
+
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. "And they say," he murmured,
+"republics are ungrateful."
+
+"I don't quite get that," said the practical politician.
+
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr.
+Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little could
+be said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven from the
+Caribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean tramps, and
+even battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of coral a safe
+shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless operator, pointed out,
+unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of death, no one ever visited
+it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that dated from the days when Porto
+Banos was a receiver of stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates, were
+rows of thatched huts, streets, according to the season, of dust or
+mud, a few iron-barred, jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal
+buildings, and the whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyard
+of the town was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a rusty
+engine pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains, and, if
+meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five in the
+evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous coffee-sacks.
+
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the train,
+and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each night the
+consuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator, the manager of
+the rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head of the long table,
+by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and distinguished manner, of his
+office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the little band of exiles he was
+the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle. By force of example he had made
+existence in Porto Banos more possible. For women and children Porto
+Banos was a death-trap, and before "old man Marshall" came there had
+been no influence to remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their white
+duck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the sun sank
+into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish
+bath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe Bolivar for
+drinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the drinks to fever.
+The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His standard of life, his
+tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful courtesy, his fastidious personal
+neatness shamed the younger men; the desire to please him, to, stand
+well in his good opinion, brought back pride and self-esteem.
+
+The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun-boat PLOVER noted the change.
+
+"Used to be," he exclaimed, "you couldn't get out of the Cafe Bolivar
+without some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a debating club.
+They all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world
+politics."
+
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos, there
+was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him. Magazines and
+correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign
+lands in which he had represented his country, but of the country he had
+represented, newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly
+that in forty years it had grown away from him, had changed beyond
+recognition.
+
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made to
+feel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his home town
+in Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those of his boyhood
+friends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead. And the
+sleepy, pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre. In
+the lanes where, as a young man, he had walked among wheatfields,
+trolley-cars whirled between rows of mills and factories. The children
+had grown to manhood, with children of their own.
+
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had been
+made welcome, only to find in its place a towering office building.
+"All had gone, the old familiar faces." In vain he scanned even the shop
+fronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether the fault was his,
+whether he would better have served his own interests than those of his
+government, it now was too late to determine. In his own home, he was a
+stranger among strangers. In the service he had so faithfully followed,
+rank by rank, he had been dropped, until now he, who twice had been a
+consul-general, was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Ship
+of State had dropped him overside, had "marooned" him, and sailed away.
+
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar, and back
+again to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office, Jose, the
+Colombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+
+"Any papers for me to sign, Jose?" the consul would ask.
+
+"Not to-day, Excellency," the clerk would reply. Then Jose would return
+to writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was any-thing to
+tell her, but because writing on the official paper of the consulate
+gave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in the inner office
+the consul would continue to gaze at the empty harbor, the empty coral
+reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless
+man came in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the island of
+Curacao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also, that much
+concern was felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS. Three days before,
+in advance of her coming, she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad, asking
+the captain of the port to reserve a berth for her. She expected to
+arrive the following morning. But for forty-eight hours nothing had
+been heard from her, and it was believed she had been overhauled by the
+hurricane. Owing to the presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closest
+friend of the new President, the man who had made him president, much
+concern was felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, the
+gun-boat NEWARK had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser RALEIGH,
+with Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seek
+shelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with
+interest:
+
+"He is of importance, then, this senator?" he asked. "Is it that in your
+country ships of war are at the service of a senator?"
+
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+
+"At the service of THIS senator, they are!" he answered. "They call him
+the 'king-maker,' the man behind the throne."
+
+"But in your country," protested the Frenchman, "there is no throne. I
+thought your president was elected by the people?"
+
+"That's what the people think," answered Aiken. "In God's country,"
+he explained, "the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the same
+interests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley. He picked
+out of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help
+the interests. He nominated him, and the people voted for him. Hanley is
+what we call a 'boss.'"
+
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+
+"The position of the boss is the more dangerous," said Marshall gravely,
+"because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to curtail his
+powers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government. They
+see in public office only a reward for party workers."
+
+"That's right," assented Aiken. "Your forty years' service, Mr. Consul,
+wouldn't count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he'd throw you out as
+quick as he would a drunken cook."
+
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to
+interrupt.
+
+"Then, let us pray," he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane has
+sunk the SERAPIS, and all on board."
+
+Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and had
+come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
+been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague, wished to
+return to it. In order to bring this about he had subscribed liberally
+to the party campaign fund.
+
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all-powerful
+Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself, demonstrated
+the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the opinion of
+many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a minister
+plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He had not lived
+long in the nation's capital without observing the value of propinquity.
+How many men he knew were now paymasters, and secretaries of legation,
+solely because those high in the government met them daily at the
+Metropolitan Club, and preferred them in almost any other place. And if,
+after three weeks as his guest on board what the newspapers called his
+floating palace, the senator could refuse him even the prize, legation
+of Europe, there was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone
+had not hinted at his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of
+Hanley's astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to the
+campaign fund was self-explanatory.
+
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board the
+SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto Banos,
+a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they were
+in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the consulate.
+There were many cables they wished to start on their way by wireless;
+cables to friends, to newspapers, to the government.
+
+Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion of
+visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for a
+chance to serve his fellow-countrymen, and especially his countrywomen,
+were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk the great senator,
+rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using, to Jose's ecstasy,
+Jose's own pen to write a reassuring message to the White House. At
+the consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in lace and pearls, was
+struggling to compress the very low opinion she held of a hurricane
+into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was inditing
+instructions to his Wall Street office, and upon himself Livingstone
+had taken the responsibility of replying to the inquiries heaped upon
+Marshall's desk, from many newspapers.
+
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and the
+young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for the
+women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consul
+apologized for proposing a toast in which they could not join. He begged
+to drink to those who had escaped the perils of the sea. Had they been
+his oldest and nearest friends, his little speech could not have been
+more heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it moved one of the ladies
+to tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men.
+
+"I regret there is no ice," he said, "but you know the rule of the
+tropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice-machine bursts."
+
+"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir," said Livingstone, "and as
+long as we're here."
+
+The senator showed his concern.
+
+"As long as we're here?" he gasped.
+
+"Not over two days," answered the owner nervously. "The chief says
+it will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know,
+Senator, she was pretty badly mauled."
+
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the naked
+coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos.
+
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+
+"That wireless operator," he continued hastily, "tells me there is a
+most amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort of
+Coney Island, where the government people go for the summer. There's
+surf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says there's some
+Spanish dancers----"
+
+The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator smiled.
+To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride on a
+merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had found
+their own society far from satisfying.
+
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+
+"And that wireless man said," he added, "that with the launch we can
+get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner." He turned to
+Marshall.
+
+"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us, first?"
+
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months
+since he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his head
+doubtfully.
+
+"I was wondering about Las Bocas," he explained, "if your going there
+might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think it
+is different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine."
+
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+
+"It's not serious," Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague there,
+or something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is only
+that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamers can't
+land any one who has been there at any other port of the West Indies.
+The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail won't even receive any
+one on board here without a certificate from the English consul saying
+he has not visited Las Bocas. For an American they would require the
+same guarantee from me. But I don't think the regulations extend to
+yachts. I will inquire. I don't wish to deprive you of any of the many
+pleasures of Porto Banos," he added, smiling, "but if you were refused a
+landing at your next port I would blame myself."
+
+"It's all right," declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you say;
+yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own doctor, and if
+he won't give us a clean bill of health, I'll make him walk the plank.
+At eight, then, at dinner. I'll send the cutter for you. I can't give
+you a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have all the side boys I can
+muster."
+
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly
+spirit.
+
+"I think he's charming!" exclaimed Miss Cairns. "And did you notice his
+novels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely down
+here, for a man like that."
+
+"He's the first of our consuls we've met on this trip," growled her
+father, "that we've caught sober."
+
+"Sober!" exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+
+"He's one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him."
+
+"I wonder," mused Hanley, "how much the place is worth? Hamilton, one of
+the new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to send his son
+somewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he'll disgrace the family. I
+should think this place would drive any man to drink himself to death in
+three months, and young Hamilton, from what I've seen of him, ought to
+be able to do it in a week. That would leave the place open for the next
+man."
+
+"There's a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it." The senator
+smiled grimly. "He has consumption, and wants us to give him a
+consulship in the tropics. I'll tell him I've seen Porto Banos, and that
+it's just the place for him."
+
+The senator's pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns alone
+had the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+
+"What would become of Mr. Marshall?" she asked. The senator smiled
+tolerantly.
+
+"I don't know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall," he said. "I can't
+recall anything he has done for this administration. You see, Miss
+Cairns," he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small child,
+"Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the expense of the
+taxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that long on their
+fellow-countrymen had better come home and get to work."
+
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post abroad at
+the expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for it. And then,
+with "ex-Minister" on his visiting cards, and a sense of duty well
+performed, for the rest of his life he could join the other expatriates
+in Paris.
+
+Just before dinner, the cruiser RALEIGH having discovered the
+whereabouts of the SERAPIS by wireless, entered the harbor, and Admiral
+Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose behalf he
+had been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his respects to that
+personage, the admiral fell boisterously upon Marshall.
+
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met,
+officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To
+each the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And
+throughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with each
+other, found in them and their talk of former days new and delightful
+entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having assured them that
+the local quarantine regulations did not extend to a yacht, the men
+departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that he and admiral remain
+behind.
+
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old
+friend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit at
+the feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their soft,
+modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him the evening
+was a great event, and with what tact each contributed to make it the
+more memorable; all served to wipe out the months of bitter loneliness,
+the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved neglect. In the
+moonlight, on the cool quarter-deck, they sat, in a half-circle, each
+of the two friends telling tales out of school, tales of which the
+other was the hero or the victim, "inside" stories of great occasions,
+ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded "shirt-sleeve" diplomacy.
+
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the Queen
+of Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the Barbary Coast
+Hardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had played chess with
+Carlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the days of the siege, Paris
+in terror in the days of the Commune; he had known Garibaldi, Gambetta,
+the younger Dumas, the creator of Pickwick.
+
+"Do you remember that time in Tangier," the admiral urged, "when I was a
+midshipman, and got into the bashaw's harem?"
+
+"Do you remember how I got you out?" Marshall replied grimly.
+
+"And," demanded Hardy, "do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a visit
+to the KEARSARGE at Marseilles in '65--George Dewey was our second
+officer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backed
+into an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to it' what was it
+she said?"
+
+"I didn't hear it," said Marshall; "I was too far down the hatch."
+
+"Do you mean the old KEARSARGE?" asked Mrs. Cairns. "Were you in the
+service then, Mr. Marshall?"
+
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+
+"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"
+
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination could
+not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the great harbor
+of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world, surrounding
+it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on the
+battleship the young consul-general making his bow to the young Empress
+of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they saw the village of
+Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row of mud shacks, at the
+end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in the clear moonlight.
+
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+
+"Admiral," she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is he
+here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many of
+our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste men
+like that." The girl exclaimed indignantly: "He's one of the most
+interesting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known every one.
+He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can see he knows his
+work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that he's----" The admiral
+interrupted with a growl.
+
+"You don't have to tell ME about Henry," he protested. "I've known Henry
+twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts," he exclaimed hotly, "he
+wouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a minister in Europe.
+Look at me! We're the same age. We started together. When Lincoln sent
+him to Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a midshipman.
+Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my brains and he's been a
+consul-general, and he's HERE, back at the foot of the ladder!"
+
+"Why?" demanded the girl.
+
+"Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn't a service.
+Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While Henry's been
+serving his country abroad, he's lost his friends, lost his 'pull.'
+Those politicians up at Washington have no use for him. They don't
+consider that a consul like Henry can make a million dollars for his
+countrymen. He can keep them from shipping goods where there's no
+market, show them where there is a market." The admiral snorted
+contemptuously. "You don't have to tell ME the value of a good consul.
+But those politicians don't consider that. They only see that he has
+a job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn't
+other politicians to protect him, they'll take it." The girl raised her
+head.
+
+"Why don't you speak to the senator?" she asked. "Tell him you've known
+him for years, that----"
+
+"Glad to do it!" exclaimed the admiral heartily. "It won't be the first
+time. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy. He hates the
+IDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he thought
+anything was given to him except on his merits, he wouldn't take it."
+
+"Then we won't tell him," said the girl. For a moment she hesitated.
+
+"If I spoke to Mr. Hanley," she asked, "told him what I learned to-night
+of Mr. Marshall, would it have any effect?"
+
+"Don't know how it will affect Hanley," said the sailor, "but if you
+asked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an ambassador."
+
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on
+deck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to
+Livingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He took
+his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a
+mood flatteringly confidential and communicative.
+
+"People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them," he laughed.
+It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They believe I've
+only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I'd be
+safe from them on board a yacht."
+
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed apprehensively.
+
+"But it seems," the senator went on, "I'm at the mercy of a conspiracy.
+The women folk want me to do something for this fellow Marshall. If they
+had their way, they'd send him to the Court of St. James. And old Hardy,
+too, tackled me about him. So did Miss Cairns. And then Marshall himself
+got me behind the wheel-house, and I thought he was going to tell me how
+good he was, too! But he didn't."
+
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed appreciatively.
+
+"Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral."
+
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who cannot be
+tricked.
+
+"They fixed it up between them," he explained, "each was to put in a
+good word for the other." He nodded eagerly. "That's what I think."
+
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
+found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, the
+older man inclined his head.
+
+"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone," he added, "you
+certainly are a great judge of men!"
+
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heart
+that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he was
+happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy of
+mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to him. Then he
+remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends had come into his
+life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer lonely. As eager as a
+boy, he ran to the window. He had not been dreaming. In the harbor lay
+the pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled war-ship. The flag that
+drooped from the stern of each caused his throat to tighten, brought
+warm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled
+spirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks in
+gratitude and gladness.
+
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral.
+It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of the
+SERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with his
+consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreed
+gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the good
+moments of the night previous.
+
+At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall saw
+Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly to
+the yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately the
+launch, carrying several passengers, again made the trip shoreward.
+
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone came
+up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves around
+Marshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator,
+on the contrary, was smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinct
+relief. He greeted the consul with hearty good-humor.
+
+"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
+presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how sorry I
+am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President,"
+he explained to Marshall, "cables me this morning to come back and
+take my coat off." The prospect, as a change from playing bridge on a
+pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+
+"Those filibusters in the Senate," he continued genially, "are making
+trouble again. They think they've got me out of the way for another
+month, but they'll find they're wrong. When that bill comes up, they'll
+find me at the old stand and ready for business!" Marshall did not
+attempt to conceal his personal disappointment.
+
+"I am so sorry you are leaving," he said; "selfishly sorry, I mean. I'd
+hoped you all would be here for several days." He looked inquiringly
+toward Livingstone.
+
+"I understood the SERAPIS was disabled," he explained.
+
+"She is," answered Hanley. "So's the RALEIGH. At a pinch, the admiral
+might have stretched the regulations and carried me to Jamaica, but
+the RALEIGH's engines are knocked about too. I've GOT to reach Kingston
+Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday for New York. At first
+it looked as though I couldn't do it, but we find that the Royal Mail
+is due to-day, and she can get to Kingston Wednesday night. It's a great
+piece of luck. I wouldn't bother you with my troubles," the senator
+explained pleasantly, "but the agent of the Royal Mail here won't sell
+me a ticket until you've put your seal to this." He extended a piece of
+printed paper.
+
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave. He
+accepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded the
+senator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of genuine
+concern.
+
+"It is most unfortunate," he said. "But I am afraid the ROYAL MAIL will
+not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas," he explained. "If we had
+only known!" he added remorsefully. "It is MOST unfortunate."
+
+"Because of Las Bocas?" echoed Hanley.
+
+"You don't mean they'll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I spent
+half an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky gramophone?"
+
+"The trouble," explained Marshall, "is this: if they carried you, all
+the other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days, and there
+are fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over the mails. But,"
+he added hopefully, "maybe the regulations have been altered. I will see
+her captain, and tell him----"
+
+"See her captain!" objected Hanley. "Why see the captain? He doesn't
+know I've been to that place. Why tell him? All I need is a clean bill
+of health from you. That's all HE wants. You have only to sign that
+paper." Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+
+"But I can't," he said.
+
+"You can't? Why not?"
+
+"Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las Bocas.
+Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas."
+
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated
+himself, and stared at Marshall curiously.
+
+"It's like this, Mr. Marshall," he began quietly. "The President desires
+my presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to him there in
+helping carry out certain party measures--measures to which he pledged
+himself before his election. Down here, a British steamship line has
+laid down local rules which, in my case anyway, are ridiculous. The
+question is, are you going to be bound by the red tape of a ha'penny
+British colony, or by your oath to the President of the United States?"
+
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook his
+head.
+
+"I'm afraid, Senator," he said, "that way of putting it is hardly
+fair. Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to the
+captain----"
+
+"You will explain nothing to the captain!" interrupted Hanley. "This
+is a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am not asking
+favors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American consul to assist
+an American citizen in trouble, and," he added, with heavy sarcasm,
+"incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his President."
+
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise and
+disbelief.
+
+"Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?" he said. "Are you
+serious?"
+
+"That paper, Mr. Marshall," returned Hanley steadily, "is a mere form,
+a piece of red tape. There's no more danger of my carrying the plague to
+Jamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You KNOW that."
+
+"I DO know that," assented Marshall heartily. "I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim of a
+regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most unfair to you.
+My own position," he added, "is not important, but you can believe me,
+it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for me to be unable to help
+you."
+
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes watching
+Marshall closely. "Then you refuse?" he said. "Why?"
+
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled. The
+look he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+
+"You know why," he answered quietly. "It is impossible."
+
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind his
+desk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men confronted each
+other. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and threatening.
+
+"Then I am to understand," he exclaimed, "that you refuse to carry out
+the wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the United
+States?"
+
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the
+consulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon it.
+
+"I refuse," he corrected, "to place the seal of this consulate on a
+lie."
+
+There was a moment's pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and
+unable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the floor.
+Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a step nearer
+and, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on the desk. With
+the air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke slowly and softly.
+
+"Do you appreciate," he asked, "that, while you may be of some
+importance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am supposed
+to carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a senator from a State
+that numbers four millions of people, and that you are preventing me
+from serving those people?" Marshall inclined his head gravely and
+politely.
+
+"And I want you to appreciate," he said, "that while I have no weight
+at Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to represent eighty
+millions of people, and as long as that consular sign is over my door
+I don't intend to prostitute it for YOU, or the President of the United
+States, or any one of those eighty millions."
+
+
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed
+shortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and indifferently, as
+though the incident no longer interested him, drew out his watch.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he said, "if the cable is working, I'll take your tin
+sign away from you by sunset."
+
+For one of Marshall's traditions, to such a speech there was no answer
+save silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and undismayed, resumed
+his seat. From the contest, judging from the manner of each, it was
+Marshall, not Hanley, who had emerged victorious.
+
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow, Marshall
+had turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less alert, his broad
+shoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own eyes filled with sudden
+tears.
+
+"What will you do?" she whispered.
+
+"I don't know what I shall do," said Marshall simply. "I should have
+liked to have resigned. It's a prettier finish. After forty years--to be
+dismissed by cable is--it's a poor way of ending it."
+
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and looked
+back.
+
+"I am sorry," she said. And both understood that in saying no more than
+that she had best shown her sympathy.
+
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more directly.
+
+"If he comes on board my ship," roared that gentleman, "I'll push him
+down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"
+
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was never so
+welcome.
+
+"You'll treat him with every courtesy," he said. "The only satisfaction
+he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We will not give him
+that satisfaction."
+
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult than
+he had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the war-ship, he
+again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the SERAPIS, he could not
+forget that his career had come to an end. There was much to remind
+him that this was so. He was made aware of it by the sad, sympathetic
+glances of the women; by their tactful courtesies; by the fact that
+Livingstone, anxious to propitiate Hanley, treated him rudely; by the
+sight of the young officers, each just starting upon a career of honor,
+and possible glory, as his career ended in humiliation; and by the big
+war-ship herself, that recalled certain crises when he had only to press
+a button and war-ships had come at his bidding.
+
+At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat, having
+taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to Jamaica, and
+dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his fate, observed her
+departure in silence.
+
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have they
+answered your cable, sir?"
+
+"They have," said Hanley gruffly.
+
+"Was it--was it satisfactory?" pursued the diplomat.
+
+"It WAS," said the senator, with emphasis.
+
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+
+"And when," he asked eagerly, "are you going to tell him?"
+
+"Now!" said the senator.
+
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the admiral's
+steam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation ladder and himself
+picked up the tiller ropes.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he called, "when I bring the launch broadside to the
+ship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul's salute."
+
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had
+forgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled to
+seven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the ceremony
+be omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his loyalty, knew
+that his old friend was now paying him this honor only as a rebuke to
+Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an honor. Hanley had made of it a
+mockery. It served only to emphasize what had been taken from him. But,
+without a scene, it now was too late to avoid it. The first of the seven
+guns had roared from the bow, and, as often he had stood before, as
+never he would so stand again, Marshall took his place at the gangway
+of the launch. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head was
+uncovered, his hat was pressed above his heart.
+
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell into
+sudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions. Indignant at the
+thought, he held himself erect. His face was set like a mask, his eyes
+were untroubled. He was determined they should not see that he was
+suffering.
+
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There was
+an echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted seven,
+and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the gangway.
+
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall,
+confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily returned
+to his place. But again before he could leave it, in savage haste a
+ninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not still be mistaken. He
+turned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of the admiral were fixed
+upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the silence. Was it a jest?
+Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed miserably. He gave a swift
+glance toward the others. They were smiling. Then it was a jest. Behind
+his back, something of which they all were cognizant was going forward.
+The face of Livingstone alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own.
+But the others, who knew, were mocking him.
+
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of Porto
+Banos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl slowly from the
+mast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by bursting into tears. But
+Marshall saw that every one else, save she and Livingstone, were still
+smiling. Even the bluejackets in charge of the launch were grinning
+at him. He was beset by smiling faces. And then from the war-ship,
+unchecked, came, against all regulations, three long, splendid cheers.
+
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way to
+his eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice trembled.
+
+"Charles," he begged, "are they laughing at me?"
+
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his cigar
+into the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by the hand.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he cried, "our President has great faith in Abraham
+Lincoln's judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning
+he appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I'm one of those
+politicians who keeps his word. I TOLD YOU I'd take your tin sign away
+from you by sunset. I've done it!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's My Buried Treasure, by Richard Harding Davis
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+*Project Gutenberg Etext of My Buried Treasure, by R. H. Davis*
+#14 in our series by Richard Harding Davis
+
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+My Buried Treasure
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+May, 1999  [Etext #1761]
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+
+MY BURIED TREASURE
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+This is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The only
+part that is not true is the name of the man with whom I searched
+for the treasure. Unless I keep his name out of it he will not let
+me write the story, and, as it was his expedition and as my share
+of the treasure is only what I can make by writing the story, I
+must write as he dictates. I think the story should be told,
+because our experience was unique, and might be of benefit to
+others. And, besides, I need the money.
+
+There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing him
+as I think he is, or reporting, as accurately as I can, what he
+said and did as he said and did it.
+
+For purposes of identification I shall call him Edgar Powell. The
+last name has no significance; but the first name is not chosen at
+random. The leader of our expedition, the head and brains of it,
+was and is the sort of man one would address as Edgar. No one would
+think of calling him "Ed," or "Eddie," any more than he would
+consider slapping him on the back.
+
+We were together at college; but, as six hundred other boys were
+there at the same time, that gives no clew to his identity. Since
+those days, until he came to see me about the treasure, we had not
+met. All I knew of him was that he had succeeded his father in
+manufacturing unshrinkable flannels. Of course, the reader
+understands that is not the article of commerce he manufactures;
+but it is near enough, and it suggests the line of business to
+which he gives his life's blood. It is not similar to my own line
+of work, and in consequence, when he wrote me, on the unshrinkable
+flannels official writing-paper, that he wished to see me in
+reference to a matter of business of "mutual benefit," I was
+considerably puzzled.
+
+A few days later, at nine in the morning, an hour of his own
+choosing, he came to my rooms in New York City.
+
+Except that he had grown a beard, he was as I remembered him, thin
+and tall, but with no chest, and stooping shoulders. He wore
+eye-glasses, and as of old through these he regarded you
+disapprovingly and warily as though he suspected you might try to
+borrow money, or even joke with him. As with Edgar I had never felt
+any temptation to do either, this was irritating.
+
+But from force of former habit we greeted each other by our first
+names, and he suspiciously accepted a cigar. Then, after fixing me
+both with his eyes and with his eye-glasses and swearing me to
+secrecy, he began abruptly.
+
+"Our mills," he said, "are in New Bedford; and I own several small
+cottages there and in Fairhaven. I rent them out at a moderate
+rate. The other day one of my tenants, a Portuguese sailor, was
+taken suddenly ill and sent for me. He had made many voyages in and
+out of Bedford to the South Seas, whaling, and he told me on his
+last voyage he had touched at his former home at Teneriffe. There
+his grandfather had given him a document that had been left him by
+his father. His grandfather said it contained an important secret,
+but one that was of value only in America, and that when he
+returned to that continent he must be very careful to whom he
+showed it. He told me it was written in a kind of English he could
+not understand, and that he had been afraid to let any one see it.
+He wanted me to accept the document in payment of the rent he owed
+me, with the understanding that I was not to look at it, and that
+if he got well I was to give it back. If he pulled through, he was
+to pay me in some other way; but if he died I was to keep the
+document. About a month ago he died, and I examined the paper. It
+purports to tell where there is buried a pirate's treasure. And,"
+added Edgar, gazing at me severely and as though he challenged me
+to contradict him, I intend to dig for it!"
+
+Had he told me he contemplated crossing the Rocky Mountains in a
+Baby Wright, or leading a cotillon, I could not have been more
+astonished. I am afraid I laughed aloud.
+
+"You!" I exclaimed. "Search for buried treasure?"
+
+My tone visibly annoyed him. Even the eye-glasses radiated
+disapproval.
+
+"I see nothing amusing in the idea," Edgar protested coldly. "It is
+a plain business proposition. I find the outlay will be small, and
+if I am successful the returns should be large; at a rough estimate
+about one million dollars."
+
+Even to-day, no true American, at the thought of one million
+dollars, can remain covered. His letter to me had said, "for our
+mutual benefit." I became respectful and polite, I might even say
+abject. After all, the ties that bind us in those dear old college
+days are not lightly to be disregarded.
+
+"If I can be of any service to you, Edgar, old man," I assured him
+heartily, "if I can help you find it, you know I shall be only too
+happy." With regret I observed that my generous offer did not seem
+to deeply move him.
+
+"I came to you in this matter," he continued stiffly, "because you
+seemed to be the sort of person who would be interested in a search
+for buried treasure."
+
+"I am," I exclaimed. "Always have been."
+
+"Have you," he demanded searchingly, "any practical experience?"
+
+I tried to appear at ease; but I knew then just how the man who
+applies to look after your furnace feels, when you ask him if he
+can also run a sixty horse-power dynamo.
+
+"I have never actually FOUND any buried treasure," I admitted; "but
+I know where lots of it is, and I know just how to go after it." I
+endeavored to dazzle him with expert knowledge.
+
+"Of course," I went on airily, "I am familiar with all the
+expeditions that have tried for the one on Cocos Island, and I know
+all about the Peruvian treasure on Trinidad, and the lost treasures
+of Jalisco near Guadalajara, and the sunken galleon on the Grand
+Cayman, and when I was on the Isle of Pines I had several very
+tempting offers to search there. And the late Captain Boynton
+invited me----"
+
+"But," interrupted Edgar in a tone that would tolerate no trifling,
+"you yourself have never financed or organized an expedition with
+the object in view of----"
+
+"Oh, that part's easy!" I assured him. "The fitting-out part you
+can safely leave to me." I assumed a confidence that I hoped he
+might believe was real. "There's always a tramp steamer in the Erie
+Basin," I said, "that one can charter for any kind of adventure,
+and I have the addresses of enough soldiers of fortune,
+filibusters, and professional revolutionists to man a battle-ship,
+all fine fellows in a tight corner. And I'll promise you they'll
+follow us to hell, and back----"
+
+"That!" exclaimed Edgar, "is exactly what I feared! "
+
+"I beg your pardon!" I exclaimed.
+
+"That's exactly what I DON'T want," said Edgar sternly. "I don't
+INTEND to get into any tight corners. I don't WANT to go to hell!"
+
+I saw that in my enthusiasm I had perhaps alarmed him. I continued
+more temperately.
+
+"Any expedition after treasure," I pointed out, "is never without
+risk. You must have discipline, and you must have picked men.
+Suppose there's a mutiny? Suppose they try to rob us of the
+treasure on our way home? We must have men we can rely on, and men
+who know how to pump a Winchester. I can get you both. And
+Bannerman will furnish me with anything from a pair of leggins to
+a quick firing gun, and on Clark Street they'll quote me a special
+rate on ship stores, hydraulic pumps, divers' helmets----"
+
+Edgar's eye-glasses became frosted with cold, condemnatory scorn.
+He shook his head disgustedly.
+
+"I was afraid of this!" he murmured.
+
+I endeavored to reassure him.
+
+"A little danger," I laughed, "only adds to the fun."
+
+"I want you to understand," exclaimed Edgar indignantly, "there
+isn't going to be any danger. There isn't going to be any fun. This
+is a plain business proposition. I asked you those questions just
+to test you. And you approached the matter exactly as I feared you
+would. I was prepared for it. In fact," he explained shamefacedly,
+"I've read several of your little stories, and I find they run to
+adventure and blood and thunder; they are not of the analytical
+school of fiction. Judging from them," he added accusingly, "you
+have a tendency to the romantic." He spoke reluctantly as though
+saying I had a tendency to epileptic fits or the morphine habit.
+
+"I am afraid," I was forced to admit, "that to me pirates and
+buried treasure always suggest adventure. And your criticism of my
+writings is well observed. Others have discovered the same fatal
+weakness. We cannot all," I pointed out, "manufacture unshrinkable
+flannels."
+
+At this compliment to his more fortunate condition, Edgar seemed to
+soften.
+
+"I grant you," he said, "that the subject has almost invariably
+been approached from the point of view you take. And what," he
+demanded triumphantly, "has been the result? Failure, or at least,
+before success was attained, a most unnecessary and regrettable
+loss of blood and life. Now, on my expedition, I do not intend that
+any blood shall be shed, or that anybody shall lose his life. I
+have not entered into this matter hastily. I have taken out
+information, and mean to benefit by other people's mistakes. When
+I decided to go on with this," he explained, "I read all the books
+that bear on searches for buried treasure, and I found that in each
+case the same mistakes were made, and that then, in order to remedy
+the mistakes, it was invariably necessary to kill somebody. Now, by
+not making those mistakes, it will not be necessary for me to kill
+any one, and nobody is going to have a chance to kill me.
+
+"You propose that we fit out a schooner and sign on a crew. What
+will happen? A man with a sabre cut across his forehead, or with a
+black patch over one eye, will inevitably be one of that crew. And,
+as soon as we sail, he will at once begin to plot against us. A
+cabin boy who the conspirators think is asleep in his bunk will
+overhear their plot and will run to the quarter-deck to give
+warning; but a pistol shot rings out, and the cabin boy falls at
+the foot of the companion ladder. The cabin boy is always the first
+one to go. After that the mutineers kill the first mate, and lock
+us in our cabin, and take over the ship. They will then broach a
+cask of rum, and all through the night we will listen to their
+drunken howlings, and from the cabin airport watch the body of the
+first mate rolling in the lee scuppers."
+
+"But you forget," I protested eagerly, "there is always ONE
+faithful member of the crew, who----"
+
+Edgar interrupted me impatiently.
+
+"I have not overlooked him," he said. "He is a Jamaica negro of
+gigantic proportions, or the ship's cook; but he always gets his
+too, and he gets it good. They throw HIM to the sharks! Then we all
+camp out on a desert island inhabited only by goats, and we build
+a stockade, and the mutineers come to treat with us under a white
+flag, and we, trusting entirely to their honor, are fools enough to
+go out and talk with them. At which they shoot us up, and withdraw
+laughing scornfully." Edgar fixed his eye-glasses upon me
+accusingly.
+
+"Am I right, or am I wrong?" he demanded. I was unable to answer.
+"The only man," continued Edgar warmly who ever showed the
+slightest intelligence in the matter was the fellow in the 'Gold
+Bug. HE kept his mouth shut. He never let any one know that he was
+after buried treasure, until he found it. That's me! Now I know
+EXACTLY where this treasure is, and----"
+
+I suppose, involuntarily, I must have given a start of interest;
+for Edgar paused and shook his head, slyly and cunningly. "And if
+you think I have the map on my person now," he declared in triumph,
+"you'll have to guess again!"
+
+"Really," I protested, "I had no intention----"
+
+"Not you, perhaps," said Edgar grudgingly; "but your Japanese valet
+conceals himself behind those curtains, follows me home, and at
+night----"
+
+"I haven't got a valet," I objected.
+
+Edgar merely smiled with the most aggravating self- sufficiency.
+"It makes no difference," he declared. "NO ONE will ever find that
+map, or see that map, or know where that treasure is, until I point
+to the spot."
+
+"Your caution is admirable," I said; "but what," I jeered, "makes
+you think you can point to the spot, because your map says
+something like, 'Through the Sunken Valley to Witch's Caldron, four
+points N. by N. E. to Gallows Hill where the shadow falls at
+sunrise, fifty fathoms west, fifty paces north as the crow flies,
+to the Seven Wells'? How the deuce," I demanded, "is any one going
+to point to that spot?"
+
+"It isn't that kind of map," shouted Edgar triumphantly. " If it
+had been, I wouldn't have gone on with it. It's a map anybody can
+read except a half-caste Portuguese sailor. It's as plain as a
+laundry bill. It says," he paused apprehensively, and then
+continued with caution, "it says at such and such a place there is
+a something. So many somethings from that something are three
+what-you-may-call- 'ems, and in the centre of these three
+what-you-may-call-'ems is buried the treasure. It's as plain as
+that!"
+
+"Even with the few details you have let escape you," I said, "I
+could find THAT spot in my sleep."
+
+"I don't think you could," said Edgar uncomfortably; but I could
+see that he had mentally warned himself to be less communicative.
+"And," he went on, "I am willing to lead you to it, if you
+subscribe to certain conditions."
+
+Edgar's insulting caution had ruffled my spirit.
+
+ "Why do you think you can trust ME?" I asked haughtily. And then,
+remembering my share of the million dollars, I added in haste, "I
+accept the conditions."
+
+"Of course, as you say, one has got to take SOME risk," Edgar
+continued; "but I feel sure," he said, regarding me doubtfully,
+"you would not stoop to open robbery." I thanked him.
+
+"Well, until one is tempted," said Edgar, "one never knows WHAT he
+might do. And I've simply GOT to have one other man, and I picked
+on you because I thought you could write about it."
+
+"I see," I said, "I am to act as the historian of the expedition."
+
+"That will be arranged later," said Edgar. "What I chiefly want you
+for is to dig. Can you dig?" he asked eagerly. I told him I could;
+but that I would rather do almost anything else.
+
+"I MUST have one other man," repeated Edgar, "a man who is strong
+enough to dig, and strong enough to resist the temptation to murder
+me." The retort was so easy that I let it pass. Besides, on Edgar,
+it would have been wasted.
+
+"I THINK you will do," he said with reluctance. "And now the
+conditions!"
+
+I smiled agreeably.
+
+"You are already sworn to secrecy," said Edgar. "And you now agree
+in every detail to obey me implicitly, and to accompany me to a
+certain place, where you will dig. If I find the treasure, you
+agree, to help me guard it, and convey it to wherever I decide it
+is safe to leave it. Your responsibility is then at an end. One
+year after the treasure is discovered, you will be free to write
+the account of the expedition. For what you write, some magazine
+may pay you. What it pays you will be your share of the treasure."
+
+Of my part of the million dollars, which I had hastily calculated
+could not be less than one-fifth, I had already spent over one
+hundred thousand dollars and was living far beyond my means. I had
+bought a farm with a waterfront on the Sound, a motor-boat, and, as
+I was not sure which make I preferred, three automobiles. I had at
+my own, expense produced a play of mine that no manager had
+appreciated, and its name in electric lights was already blinding
+Broadway. I had purchased a Hollander express rifle, a REAL amber
+cigar holder, a private secretary who could play both rag-time and
+tennis, and a fur coat. So Edgar's generous offer left me naked.
+When I had again accustomed myself to the narrow confines of my
+flat, and the jolt of the surface cars, I asked humbly:
+
+"Is that ALL I get?"
+
+"Why should you expect any more?" demanded Edgar. "It isn't YOUR
+treasure. You wouldn't expect me to make you a present of an
+interest in my mills; why should you get a share of my treasure?"
+He gazed at me reproachfully. "I thought you'd be pleased," he
+said. " It must be hard to think of things to write about, and I'm
+giving you a subject for nothing. I thought," he remonstrated,
+"you'd jump at the chance. It isn't every day a man can dig for
+buried treasure."
+
+"That's all right," I said. "Perhaps I appreciate that quite as
+well as you do. But my time has a certain small value, and I can't
+leave my work just for excitement. We may be weeks, months---- How
+long do you think we----"
+
+Behind his eye-glasses Edgar winked reprovingly.
+
+"That is a leading question," he said. "I will pay all your
+legitimate expenses--transportation, food, lodging. It won't cost
+you a cent. And you write the story--with my name left out," he
+added hastily; "it would hurt my standing in the trade," he
+explained-- "and get paid for it."
+
+I saw a sea voyage at Edgar's expense. I saw palm leaves, coral
+reefs. I felt my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and
+shoulders as I drove my pick into the chest of gold.
+
+"I'll go with you!" I said. We shook hands on it. "When do we
+start?" I asked.
+
+"Now!" said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched
+upon one of my pet vanities.
+
+"You can't do that with me!" I said. "My bags are packed and ready
+for any place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can
+start this minute. Where is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast,
+the Spanish Main----"
+
+Edgar frowned inscrutably. "Have you an empty suit-case?" he asked.
+
+"Why EMPTY?" I demanded.
+
+"To carry the treasure," said Edgar. "I left mine in the hall. We
+will need two."
+
+"And your trunks?" I said.
+
+"There aren't going to be any trunks," said Edgar. From his pocket
+he had taken a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. "If we
+hurry," he exclaimed, " we can catch the ten-thirty express, and
+return to New York in time for dinner."
+
+"And what about the treasure?" I roared.
+
+"We'll' bring it with us," said Edgar.
+
+I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused
+both. I insisted that I might be allowed at least to carry my
+automatic pistol. "Suppose some one tries to take the treasure from
+us?" I pointed out.
+
+"No one," said Edgar severely, "would be such an ass as to imagine
+we are carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it
+contains pajamas."
+
+"For local color, then," I begged, "I want to say in my story that
+I went heavily armed."
+
+"Say it, then," snapped Edgar. "But you can't DO it! Not with me,
+you can't! How do I know you mightn't----" He shook his head
+warily.
+
+It was a day in early October, the haze of Indian summer was in the
+air, and as we crossed the North River by the Twenty- third Street
+Ferry the sun flashed upon the white clouds overhead and the
+tumbling waters below. On each side of us great vessels with the
+Blue Peter at the fore lay at the wharfs ready to cast off, or were
+already nosing their way down the channel toward strange and
+beautiful ports. Lamport and Holt were rolling down to Rio; the
+Royal Mail's MAGDALENA, no longer "white and gold," was off to
+Kingston, where once seven pirates swung in chains; the CLYDE was
+on her way to Hayti where the buccaneers came from; the MORRO
+CASTLE was bound for Havana, which Morgan, king of all the pirates,
+had once made his own; and the RED D was steaming to Porto Cabello
+where Sir Francis Drake, as big a buccaneer as any of them, lies
+entombed in her harbor. And I was setting forth on a
+buried-treasure expedition on a snub-nosed, flat- bellied,
+fresh-water ferry-boat, bound for Jersey City! No one will ever
+know my sense of humiliation. And, when the Italian boy insulted my
+immaculate tan shoes by pointing at them and saying, "Shine?" I
+could have slain him. Fancy digging for buried treasure in freshly
+varnished boots! But Edgar did not mind. To him there was nothing
+lacking; it was just as it should be. He was deeply engrossed in
+calculating how many offices were for rent in the Singer Building!
+
+When we reached the other side, he refused to answer any of my
+eager questions. He would not let me know even for what place on
+the line he had purchased our tickets, and, as a hint that I should
+not disturb him, he stuffed into my hands the latest magazines. "At
+least tell me this," I demanded. "Have you ever been to this place
+before to-day?"
+
+"0nce," said Edgar shortly, "last week. That's when I found out I
+would need some one with me who could dig."
+
+"How do you know it's the RIGHT place?" I whispered.
+
+The summer season was over, and of the chair car we were the only
+occupants; but, before he answered, Edgar looked cautiously round
+him and out of the window. We had just passed Red Bank.
+
+"Because the map told me," he answered. "Suppose," he continued
+fretfully, "you had a map of New York City with the streets marked
+on it plainly? Suppose the map said that if you walked to where
+Broadway and Fifth Avenue meet, you would find the Flatiron
+Building. Do you think you could find it?"
+
+"Was it as easy as THAT?" I gasped.
+
+"It was as easy as THAT!" said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair and let the magazines slide to the floor.
+What fiction story was there in any one of them so enthralling as
+the actual possibilities that lay before me? In two hours I might
+be bending over a pot of gold, a sea chest stuffed with pearls and
+rubies!
+
+I began to recall all the stories I had heard as a boy of treasure
+buried along the coast by Kidd on his return voyage from the
+Indies. Where along the Jersey sea-line were there safe harbors?
+The train on which we were racing south had its rail head at
+Barnegat Bay. And between Barnegat and Red Bank there now was but
+one other inlet, that of the Manasquan River. It might be Barnegat;
+it might be Manasquan. It could not be a great distance from
+either; toward the ocean down a broad, sandy road. The season had
+passed and the windows of the cottages and bungalows on either side
+of the road were barricaded with planks. On the verandas hammocks
+abandoned to the winds hung in tatters, on the back porches the
+doors of empty refrigerators swung open on one hinge, and on every
+side above the fields of gorgeous golden-rod rose signs reading
+"For Rent." When we had progressed in silence for a mile, the sandy
+avenue lost itself in the deeper sand of the beach, and the horse
+of his own will came to a halt.
+
+On one side we were surrounded by locked and deserted bathing
+houses, on the other by empty pavilions shuttered and barred
+against the winter, but still inviting one to 'Try our salt water
+taffy" or to "Keep cool with an ice-cream soda." Rupert turned and
+looked inquiringly at Edgar. To the north the beach stretched in an
+unbroken line to Manasquan Inlet. To the south three miles away we
+could see floating on the horizon-like a mirage the hotels and
+summer cottages of Bay Head.
+
+"Drive toward the inlet," directed Edgar. "This gentleman and I
+will walk."
+
+Relieved of our weight, the horse stumbled bravely into the
+trackless sand, while below on the damper and firmer shingle we
+walked by the edge of the water.
+
+The tide was coming in and the spent waves, spreading before them
+an advance guard of tiny shells and pebbles, threatened our boots'
+and at the same time in soothing, lazy whispers warned us of their
+attack. These lisping murmurs and the crash and roar of each
+incoming wave as it broke were the only sounds. And on the beach we
+were the only human figures. At last the scene began to bear some
+resemblance to one set for an adventure. The rolling ocean, a coast
+steamer dragging a great column of black smoke, and cast high upon
+the beach the wreck of a schooner, her masts tilting drunkenly,
+gave color to our purpose. It became filled with greater promise of
+drama, more picturesque. I began to thrill with excitement. I
+regarded Edgar appealingly, in eager supplication. At last he broke
+the silence that was torturing me.
+
+"We will now walk higher up," he commanded. "If we get our feet
+wet, we may take cold."
+
+My spirit was too far broken to make reply. But to my relief I saw
+that in leaving the beach Edgar had some second purpose. With each
+heavy step he was drawing toward two high banks of sand in a hollow
+behind which, protected by the banks, were three stunted,
+wind-driven pines. His words came back to me.
+
+"So many what-you-may-call-'ems." Were these pines the three
+somethings from something, the what-you-may-call-'ems? The thought
+chilled me to the spine. I gazed at them fascinated. I felt like
+falling on my knees in the sand and tearing their secret from them
+with my bare hands. I was strong enough to dig them up by the
+roots, strong enough to dig the Panama Canal! I glanced tremulously
+at Edgar. His eyes were wide open and, eloquent with dismay, his
+lower jaw had fallen. He turned and looked at me for the first time
+with consideration. Apology and remorse were written in every line
+of his countenance.
+
+I'm sorry, he stammered. I had a cruel premonition. I exclaimed
+with distress.
+
+"You have lost the map!" I hissed.
+
+"No, no," protested Edgar; "but I entirely forgot to bring any
+lunch!"
+
+With violent mutterings I tore off my upper and outer garments and
+tossed them into the hack.
+
+"Where do I begin?" I asked.
+
+Edgar pointed to a spot inside the triangle formed by the three
+trees and equally distant from each.
+
+"Put that horse behind the bank," I commanded, "where no one can
+see him! And both you and Rupert keep off the sky-line!" From the
+north and south we were now all three hidden by the two high banks
+of sand; to the east lay the beach and the Atlantic Ocean, and to
+the west stretches of marshes that a mile away met a wood of pine
+trees and the railroad round- house.
+
+I began to dig. I knew that weary hours lay before me, and I
+attacked the sand leisurely and with deliberation. It was at first
+no great effort; but as the hole grew in depth, and the roots of
+the trees were exposed, the work was sufficient for several men.
+Still, as Edgar had said, it is not every day that one can dig for
+treasure, and in thinking of what was to come I forgot my hands
+that quickly blistered, and my breaking back. After an hour I
+insisted that Edgar should take a turn; but he made such poor
+headway that my patience could not contain me, and I told him I was
+sufficiently rested and would continue. With alacrity he scrambled
+out of the hole, and, taking a cigar from my case, seated himself
+comfortably in the hack. I took my comfort in anticipating the
+thrill that would be mine when the spade would ring on the
+ironbound chest; when, with a blow of the axe, I would expose to
+view the hidden jewels, the pieces of eight, coated with verdigris,
+the string of pearls, the chains of yellow gold. Edgar had said a
+million dollars. That must mean there would be diamonds, many
+diamonds. I would hold them in my hands, watch them, at the sudden
+sunshine, blink their eyes and burst into tiny, burning fires. In
+imagination I would replace them in the setting, from which, years
+before, they had been stolen. I would try to guess whence they came
+from a jewelled chalice in some dim cathedral, from the breast of
+a great lady, from the hilt of an admiral's sword.
+
+After another hour I lifted my aching shoulders and, wiping the
+sweat from my eyes, looked over the edge of the hole. Rupert, with
+his back to the sand-hill, was asleep. Edgar with one hand was
+waving away the mosquitoes and in the other was holding one of the
+magazines he had bought on the way down. I could even see the page
+upon which his eyes were riveted. It was an advertisement for
+breakfast food. In my indignation the spade slipped through my
+cramped and perspiring fingers, and as it struck the bottom of the
+pit, something --a band of iron, a steel lock, an iron ring-- gave
+forth a muffled sound. My heart stopped beating as suddenly as
+though Mr. Corbett had hit it with his closed fist. My blood turned
+to melted ice. I drove the spade down as fiercely as though it was
+a dagger. It sank into rotten wood. I had made no sound; for I
+could hardly breathe. But the slight noise of the blow had reached
+Edgar. I heard the springs of the hack creak as he vaulted from it,
+and the next moment he was towering above me, peering down into the
+pit. His eyes were wide with excitement, greed, and fear. In his
+hands he clutched the two suit-cases. Like a lion defending his
+cubs he glared at me.
+
+"Get out!" he shouted.
+
+"Like hell!" I said.
+
+"Get out!" he roared. "I'll do the rest.
+
+That's mine, not yours! GET OUT!"
+
+With a swift kick I brushed away the sand. I found I was standing
+on a squat wooden box, bound with bands of rusty iron. I had only
+to stoop to touch it. It was so rotten that I could have torn it
+apart with my bare hands. Edgar was dancing on the edge of the pit,
+incidentally kicking sand into my mouth and nostrils.
+
+"You PROMISED me!" he roared. "You PROMISED to obey me!"
+
+"You ass!" I shouted. "Haven't I done all the work? Don't I
+get----"
+
+"You get out!" roared Edgar.
+
+Slowly, disgustedly, with what dignity one can display in crawling
+out of a sand-pit, I scrambled to the top.
+
+"Go over there," commanded Edgar pointing, "and sit down."
+
+In furious silence I seated myself beside Rupert. He was still
+slumbering and snoring happily. From where I sat I could see
+nothing of what was going forward in the pit, save once, when the
+head of Edgar, his eyes aflame and his hair and eye-glasses
+sprinkled with sand, appeared above it. Apparently he was fearful
+lest I had moved from the spot where he had placed me. I had not;
+but had he known my inmost feelings he would have taken the axe
+into the pit with him.
+
+I must have sat so for half an hour. In the sky above me a
+fish-hawk drifted lazily. From the beach sounded the steady beat of
+the waves, and from the town across the marshes came the puffing of
+a locomotive and the clanging bells of the freight trains. The
+breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on my aching body; but it
+could not cool the rage in my heart. If I had the courage of my
+feelings, I would have cracked Edgar over head with the spade,
+buried him in the pit, bribed Rupert, and forever after lived
+happily on my ill-gotten gains. That was how Kidd, or Morgan, or
+Blackbeard would have acted. I cursed the effete civilization which
+had taught me to want many pleasures but had left me with a
+conscience that would not let me take human life to obtain them,
+not even Edgar's life.
+
+In half an hour a suit-case was lifted into view and dropped on the
+edge of the pit. It was followed by the other, and then by Edgar.
+Without asking me to help him, because he probably knew I would
+not, he shovelled the sand into the hole, and then placed the
+suitcases in the carriage. With increasing anger I observed that
+the contents of each were so heavy that to lift it he used both
+hands.
+
+"There is no use your asking any questions," he announced, "because
+I won't answer them."
+
+I gave him minute directions as to where he could go; but instead
+we drove in black silence to the station. There Edgar rewarded
+Rupert with a dime, and while we waited for the train to New York
+placed the two suit-cases against the wall of the ticket office and
+sat upon them. When the train arrived he warned me in a hoarse
+whisper that I had promised to help him guard the treasure, and
+gave me one of the suit- cases. It weighed a ton. Just to spite
+Edgar, I had a plan to kick it open, so that every one on the
+platform might scramble for the contents. But again my infernal New
+England conscience restrained me.
+
+Edgar had secured the drawing-room in the parlor-car, and when we
+were safely inside and the door bolted my curiosity became stronger
+than my pride.
+
+"Edgar," I said, "your ingratitude is contemptible. Your suspicions
+are ridiculous; but, under these most unusual conditions, I don't
+blame you. But we are quite safe now. The door is fastened," I
+pointed out ingratiatingly, it and this train doesn't stop for
+another forty minutes. I think this would be an excellent time to
+look at the treasure." "I don't!" said Edgar.
+
+I sank back into my chair. With intense enjoyment I imagined the
+train in which we were seated hurling itself into another train;
+and everybody, including Edgar, or, rather, especially Edgar, being
+instantly but painlessly killed. By such an act of an all-wise
+Providence I would at once become heir to one million dollars. It
+was a beautiful, satisfying dream. Even MY conscience accepted it
+with a smug smile. It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily
+expectant, waiting for the crash to come, for the shrieks and
+screams, for the rush of escaping steam and breaking window-panes.
+
+But it was far too good to be true. Without a jar the train carried
+us and its precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal.
+And each, with half a million dollars in his hand, hurried to the
+ferry, assailed by porters, news-boys, hackmen. To them we were a
+couple of commuters saving a dime by carrying our own hand-bags.
+
+It was now six o'clock, and I pointed out to Edgar that at that
+hour the only vaults open were those of the Night and Day Bank. And
+to that institution in a taxicab we at once made our way. I paid
+the chauffeur, and two minutes later, with a gasp of relief and
+rejoicing, I dropped the suit-case I had carried on a table in the
+steel-walled fastnesses of the vaults. Gathered excitedly around us
+were the officials of the bank, summoned hastily from above, and
+watchmen in plain clothes, and watchmen in uniforms of gray. Great
+bars as thick as my leg protected us. Walls of chilled steel rising
+from solid rock stood between our treasure and the outer world.
+Until then I had not known how tremendous the nervous strain had
+been; but now it came home to me. I mopped the perspiration from my
+forehead, I drew a deep breath.
+
+"Edgar," I exclaimed happily, "I congratulate you!" I found Edgar
+extending toward me a two-dollar bill. "You gave the chauffeur two
+dollars,"' he said. "The fare was really one dollar eighty; so you
+owe me twenty cents."
+
+Mechanically I laid two dimes upon the table.
+
+"All the other expenses," continued Edgar, "which I agreed to pay,
+I have paid." He made a peremptory gesture. "I won't detain you any
+longer," he said. "Good-night!"
+
+"Good-night!" I cried. "Don't I see the treasure?" Against the
+walls of chilled steel my voice rose like that of a tortured soul.
+"Don't I touch it!" I yelled. "Don't I even get a squint? "
+
+Even the watchmen looked sorry for me.
+
+"You do not!" said Edgar calmly. "You have fulfilled your part of
+the agreement. I have fulfilled mine. A year from now you can write
+the story." As I moved in a dazed state toward the steel door, his
+voice halted me.
+
+"And you can say in your story," called Edgar," that there is only
+one way to get a buried treasure. That is to go, and get it!"
+
+ THE CONSUL
+
+ For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man
+Marshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He had
+been appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was
+his distinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as
+each new administration succeeded the old, it had again and again
+saved his official head. When victorious and voracious
+place-hunters, searching the map of the world for spoils, dug out
+his hiding-place and demanded his consular sign as a reward for a
+younger and more aggressive party worker, the ghost of the dead
+President protected him. In the State Department, Marshall had
+become a tradition. "You can't touch Him!" the State Department
+would say; "why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!" Secretly, for this
+weapon against the hungry headhunters, the department was
+infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its own
+heart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he
+was sent, there, without question, he would go. Never against
+exile, against ill-health, against climate did he make complaint.
+Nor when he was moved on and down to make way for some
+ne'er-do-well with influence, with a brother-in- law in the Senate,
+with a cousin owning a newspaper, with rich relatives who desired
+him to drink himself to death at the expense of the government
+rather than at their own, did old man Marshall point to his record
+as a claim for more just treatment.
+
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a
+quaint, stately hand, were models of English; full of information,
+intelligent, valuable, well observed. And those few of his
+countrymen, who stumbled upon him in the out-of- the-world places
+to which of late he had been banished, wrote of him to the
+department in terms of admiration and awe. Never had he or his
+friends petitioned for promotion, until it was at last apparent
+that, save for his record and the memory of his dead patron, he had
+no friends. But, still in the department the tradition held and,
+though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.
+
+"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since
+the Civil War," protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to
+me, Mr. Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he
+give some one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that
+has borne the brunt----"
+
+"This place he now holds," interrupted the Secretary of State
+suavely, "is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I
+can't pronounce the name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is,
+but I see that, of the last six consuls we sent there, three
+resigned within a month and the other three died of yellow-fever.
+Still, if you. insist----"
+
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. "I'm not the sort,"
+he protested, "to turn out a man appointed by our martyred
+President. Besides, he's so old now, if the fever don't catch him,
+he'll die of old age, anyway."
+
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. "And they say," he murmured,
+"republics are ungrateful."
+
+"I don't quite get that," said the practical politician.
+
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr.
+Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little
+could be said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven
+from the Caribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean
+tramps, and even battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of
+coral a safe shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless
+operator, pointed out, unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of
+death, no one ever visited it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that
+dated from the days when Porto Banos was a receiver of stolen goods
+for buccaneers and pirates, were rows of thatched huts, streets,
+according to the season, of dust or mud, a few iron-barred,
+jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal buildings, and the
+whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyard of the town
+was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a rusty engine
+pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains, and, if
+meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five in
+the evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous
+coffeesacks.
+
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the
+train, and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each
+night the consuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator,
+the manager of the rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head
+of the long table, by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and
+distinguished manner, of his office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the
+little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle.
+By force of example he had made existence in Porto Banos more
+possible. For women and children Porto Banos was a death-trap, and
+before "old man Marshall" came there had been no influence to
+remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their
+white duck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the
+sun sank into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into
+a Turkish bath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe
+Bolivar for drinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the
+drinks to fever. The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His
+standard of life, his tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful
+courtesy, his fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger men;
+the desire to please him, to, stand well in his good opinion,
+brought back pride and self-esteem.
+
+The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun-boat PLOVER noted the change.
+
+"Used to be," he exclaimed, "you couldn't get out of the Cafe
+Bolivar without some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a
+debating club. They all sit round a table and listen to an old
+gentleman talk world politics."
+
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos,
+there was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him.
+Magazines and correspondents in six languages kept him in touch
+with those foreign lands in which he had represented his country,
+but of the country he had represented, newspapers and periodicals
+showed him only too clearly that in forty years it had grown away
+from him, had changed beyond recognition.
+
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made
+to feel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his
+home town in Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those
+of his boyhood friends who were not dead had long thought of him as
+dead. And the sleepy, pretty village had become a bustling
+commercial centre. In the lanes where, as a young man, he had
+walked among wheatfields, trolley-cars whirled between rows of
+mills and factories. The children had grown to manhood, with
+children of their own.
+
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had
+been made welcome, only to find in its place a towering office
+building. "All had gone, the old familiar faces." In vain he
+scanned even the shop fronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether
+the fault was his, whether he would better have served his own
+interests than those of his government, it now was too late to
+determine. In his own home, he was a stranger among strangers. In
+the service he had so faithfully followed, rank by rank, he had
+been dropped, until now he, who twice had been a consul-general,
+was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Ship of State
+had dropped him overside, had "marooned" him, and sailed away.
+
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar, and
+back again to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office,
+Jose" the Colombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+
+"Any papers for me to sign, Jose? " the consul would ask.
+
+"Not to-day, Excellency, "the clerk would reply. Then Jose would
+return to writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was
+any-thing to tell her, but because writing on the official paper of
+the consulate gave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in
+the inner office the consul would continue to gaze at the empty
+harbor, the empty coral reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the
+wireless man came in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the
+island of Curacao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also,
+that much concern was felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS.
+Three days before, in advance of her coming, she had sent a
+wireless to Wilhelmstad, asking the captain of the port to reserve
+a berth for her. She expected to arrive the following morning. But
+for forty-eight hours nothing had been heard from her, and it was
+believed she had been overhauled by the hurricane. Owing to the
+presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closest friend of the new
+President, the man who had made him president, much concern was
+felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, the gun-boat
+NEWARK had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser RALEIGH, with
+Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seek
+shelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with
+interest:
+
+"He is of importance, then, this senator?" he asked. "Is it that in
+your country ships of war are at the service of a senator?"
+
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+
+"At the service of THIS senator, they are!" he answered. "They call
+him the 'king-maker,' the man behind the throne."
+
+"But in your country," protested the Frenchman, "there is no
+throne. I thought your president was elected by the people?"
+
+"That's what the people think," answered Aiken. "In God's country,"
+he explained, "the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the
+same interests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley.
+He picked out of the candidates for the presidency the man he
+thought would help the interests. He nominated him, and the people
+voted for him. Hanley is what we call a 'boss.' "
+
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+
+"The position of the boss is the more dangerous," said Marshall
+gravely, "because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to
+curtail his powers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good
+government. They see in public office only a reward for party
+workers."
+
+"That's right," assented Aiken. "Your forty years' service, Mr.
+Consul, wouldn't count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he'd
+throw you out as quick as he would a drunken cook."
+
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to
+interrupt.
+
+"Then, let us pray," he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane
+has sunk the SERAPIS, and all on board."
+
+Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and
+had come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
+been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague,
+wished to return to it. In order to bring this about he had
+subscribed liberally to the party campaign fund.
+
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all- powerful
+Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself,
+demonstrated the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the
+opinion of many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a
+minister plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He
+had not lived long in the nation's capital without observing the
+value of propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and
+secretaries of legation, solely because those high in the
+government met them daily at the Metropolitan Club, and preferred
+them in almost any other place. And if, after three weeks as his
+guest on board what the newspapers called his floating palace, the
+senator could refuse him even the prize, legation of Europe, there
+was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone had not hinted at
+his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of Hanley's
+astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to the
+campaign fund was self- explanatory.
+
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board
+the SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto
+Banos, a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water,
+they were in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for
+the consulate. There were many cables they wished to start on their
+way by wireless; cables to friends, to newspapers, to the
+government.
+
+Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion
+of visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful
+for a chance to serve his fellow- countrymen, and especially his
+countrywomen, were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk
+the great senator, rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using,
+to Jose's ecstasy, Jose's own pen to write a reassuring message to
+the White House. At the consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in
+lace and pearls, was struggling to compress the very low opinion
+she held of a hurricane into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns,
+the banker, was inditing instructions to his Wall Street office,
+and upon himself Livingstone had taken the responsibility of
+replying to the inquiries heaped upon Marshall's desk, from many
+newspapers.
+
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things,
+and the young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made
+tea for the women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid
+water. The consul apologized for proposing a toast in which they
+could not join. He begged to drink to those who had escaped the
+perils of the sea. Had they been his oldest and nearest friends,
+his little speech could not have been more heart-felt and sincere.
+To his distress, it moved one of the ladies to tears, and in
+embarrassment he turned to the men.
+
+"I regret there is no ice," he said, "but you know the rule of the
+tropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice- machine bursts."
+
+"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir," said Livingstone,
+"and as long as we're here."
+
+The senator showed his concern.
+
+"As long as we're here?" he gasped.
+
+"Not over two days," answered the owner nervously. "The chief says
+it will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know,
+Senator, she was pretty badly mauled."
+
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the
+naked coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto
+Banos.
+
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+
+"That wireless operator," he continued hastily, "tells me there is
+a most amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort
+of Coney Island, where the government people go for the summer.
+There's surf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says
+there's some Spanish dancers----"
+
+The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator
+smiled. To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a
+ride on a merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr.
+Livingstone had found their own society far from satisfying.
+
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+
+"And that wireless man said," he added, "that with the launch we
+can get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner." He
+turned to Marshall.
+
+"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us,
+first?"
+
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months
+since he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his
+head doubtfully.
+
+"I was wondering about Las Bocas," he explained, "if your going
+there might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht,
+I think it is different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine"
+
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+
+"It's not serious," Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague
+there, or something like it. You would be in no danger from that.
+It is only that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger
+steamers can't land any one who has been there at any other port of
+the
+
+West Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail
+won't even receive any one on board here without a certificate from
+the English consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an
+American they would require the same guarantee from me. But I don't
+think the regulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don't
+wish to deprive you of any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos,"
+he added, smiling, "but if you were refused a landing at your next
+port I would blame myself."
+
+"It's all right," declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you
+say; yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own
+doctor, and if he won't give us a clean bill of health, I'll make
+him walk the plank. At eight, then, at dinner. I'll send the cutter
+for you. I can't give you a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have
+all the side boys I can muster."
+
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly
+spirit.
+
+"I think he's charming!" exclaimed Miss Cairns. "And did you notice
+his novels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely
+down here, for a man like that."
+
+"He's the first of our consuls we've met on this trip," growled her
+father, "that we've caught sober."
+
+"Sober!" exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+
+"He's one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him."
+
+"I wonder," mused Hanley, "how much the place is worth? Hamilton,
+one of the new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to
+send his son somewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he'll
+disgrace the family. I should think this place would drive any man
+to drink himself to death in three months, and young Hamilton, from
+what I've seen of him, ought to be able to do it in a week. That
+would leave the place open for the next man."
+
+"There's a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it." The
+senator smiled grimly. "He has consumption, and wants us to give
+him a consulship in the tropics. I'll tell him I've seen Porto
+Banos, and that it's just the place for him."
+
+The senator's pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns
+alone had the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+
+"What would become of Mr. Marshall?" she asked. The senator smiled
+tolerantly.
+
+"I don't know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall," he said. "I
+can't recall anything he has done for this administration. You see,
+Miss Cairns," he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small
+child, "Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the
+expense of the taxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that
+long on their fellow-countrymen had better come home and get to
+work."
+
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post
+abroad at the expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for
+it. And then, with "ex-Minister" on his visiting cards, and a sense
+of duty well performed, for the rest of his life he could join the
+other expatriates in Paris.
+
+Just before dinner, the cruiser RALEIGH having discovered the
+whereabouts of the SERAPIS by wireless, entered the harbor, and
+Admiral Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose
+behalf he had been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his
+respects to that personage, the admiral fell boisterously upon
+Marshall.
+
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met,
+officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To
+each the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And
+throughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with
+each other, found in them and their talk of former days new and
+delightful entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having
+assured them that the local quarantine regulations did not extend
+to a yacht, the men departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that
+he and admiral remain behind.
+
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old
+friend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit
+at the feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their
+soft, modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him
+the evening was a great event, and with what tact each contributed
+to make it the more memorable; all served to wipe out the months of
+bitter loneliness, the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved
+neglect. In the moonlight, on the cool quarter- deck, they sat, in
+a half-circle, each of the two friends telling tales out of school,
+tales of which the other was the hero or the victim, "inside"
+stories of great occasions, ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded
+"shirt-sleeve" diplomacy.
+
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the
+Queen of Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the
+Barbary Coast Hardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had
+played chess with Carlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the
+days of the siege, Paris in terror in the days of the Commune; he
+had known Garibaldi, Gambetta, the younger Dumas, the creator of
+Pickwick.
+
+"Do you remember that time in Tangier," the admiral urged, when I
+was a midshipman, and got into the bashaw's harem?"
+
+"Do you remember how I got you out? Marshall replied grimly.
+
+"And," demanded Hardy, "do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a
+visit to the KEARSARGE at Marseilles in '65--George Dewey was our
+second officer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and
+you backed into an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to
+it' what was it she said?"
+
+"I didn't hear it," said Marshall; "I was too far down the hatch."
+
+"Do you mean the old KEARSARGE?" asked Mrs. Cairns. "Were you in
+the service then, Mr. Marshall? "
+
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+
+"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"
+
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination
+could not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the
+great harbor of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world,
+surrounding it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north,
+and on the battleship the young consul-general making his bow to
+the young Empress of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they
+saw the village of Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row
+of mud shacks, at the end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in
+the clear moonlight.
+
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+
+"Admiral," she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is he
+here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many
+of our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste
+men like that." The girl exclaimed indignantly: " He's one of the
+most interesting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known
+every one. He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can
+see he knows his work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that
+he's----" The admiral interrupted with a growl.
+
+"You don't have to tell ME about Henry," he protested. "I've known
+Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts," he exclaimed
+hotly, "he wouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a
+minister in Europe. Look at me! We're the same age. We started
+together. When Lincoln sent him to Morocco as consul, he signed my
+commission as a midshipman. Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my
+brains and he's been a consul- general, and he's HERE, back at the
+foot of the ladder!"
+
+"Why?" demanded the girl.
+
+"Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn't a
+service. Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While
+Henry's been serving his country abroad, he's lost his friends,
+lost his 'pull.' Those politicians up at Washington have no use for
+him. They don't consider that a consul like Henry can make a
+million dollars for his countrymen. He can keep them from shipping
+goods where there's no market, show them where there is a market."
+The admiral snorted contemptuously. "You don't have to tell ME the
+value of a good consul. But those politicians don't consider that.
+They only see that he has a job worth a few hundred dollars, and
+they want it, and if he hasn't other politicians to protect him,
+they'll take it." The girl raised her head.
+
+"Why don't you speak to the senator?" she asked. "Tell him you've
+known him for years, that----"
+
+"Glad to do it!" exclaimed the admiral heartily. " It won't be the
+first time. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy.
+He hates the IDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse
+it. If he thought anything was given to him except on his merits,
+he wouldn't take it."
+
+"Then we won't tell him, " said the girl. For a moment she
+hesitated.
+
+"If I spoke to Mr. Hanley," she asked, "told him what I learned
+to-night of Mr. Marshall, "would it have any effect?"
+
+"Don't know how it will affect Hanley, said the sailor, "but if you
+asked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an
+ambassador."
+
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on
+deck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to
+Livingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He
+took his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He
+was in a mood flatteringly confidential and communicative.
+
+"People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them," he
+laughed. It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They
+believe I've only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want.
+I thought I'd be safe from them on board a yacht."
+
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed
+apprehensively.
+
+"But it seems," the senator went on, " I'm at the mercy of a
+conspiracy. The women folk want me to do something for this fellow
+Marshall. If they had their way, they'd send him to the Court of
+St. James. And old Hardy, too, tackled me about him. So did Miss
+Cairns.
+
+And then Marshall himself got me behind the wheel-house, and I
+thought he was going to tell me how good he was, too I But he
+didn't."
+
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed
+appreciatively.
+
+"Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral."
+
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who
+cannot be tricked.
+
+"They fixed it up between them," he explained, " each was to put in
+a good word for the other." He nodded eagerly. "That's what I
+think."
+
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
+found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference,
+the older man inclined his head.
+
+"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone," he added,
+"you certainly are a great judge of men!"
+
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his
+heart that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that
+he was happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his
+canopy of mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to
+him. Then he remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends
+had come into his life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer
+lonely. As eager as a boy, he ran to the window. He had not been
+dreaming. In the harbor lay the pretty yacht, the stately,
+white-hulled war- ship. The flag that drooped from the stern of
+each caused his throat to tighten, brought warm tears to his eyes,
+fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled spirit. When he knelt
+beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks in gratitude and
+gladness.
+
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the
+admiral. It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the
+guests of the SERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to
+lunch with his consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk.
+The consul agreed gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised
+to repeat the good moments of the night previous.
+
+At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall
+saw Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf
+excitedly to the yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return.
+Almost immediately the launch, carrying several passengers, again
+made the trip shoreward.
+
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone
+came up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated
+themselves around Marshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in
+melancholy. The senator, on. the contrary, was smiling broadly. His
+manner was one of distinct relief. He greeted the consul with
+hearty good-humor.
+
+"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
+presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how
+sorry I am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The
+President," he explained to Marshall, " cables me this morning to
+come back and take my coat off." The prospect, as a change from
+playing bridge on a pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+
+"Those filibusters in the Senate," he continued genially, "are
+making trouble again. They think they've got me out of the way for
+another month, but they'll find they're wrong. When that bill comes
+up, they'll find me at the old stand and ready for business!"
+Marshall did not attempt to conceal his personal disappointment.
+
+"I am so sorry you are leaving," he said; "selfishly sorry, I mean.
+I'd hoped you all would be here for several days." He looked
+inquiringly toward Livingstone.
+
+"I understood the SERAPIS was disabled," he explained.
+
+"She is," answered Hanley. "So's the RALEIGH. At a pinch, the
+admiral might have stretched the regulations and carried me to
+Jamaica, but the RALEIGH's engines are knocked about too. I've GOT
+to reach Kingston Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday
+for New York. At first it looked as though I couldn't do it, but we
+find that the Royal Mail is due to- day, and she can get to
+Kingston Wednesday night. It's a great piece of luck. I wouldn't
+bother you with my troubles, "the senator explained pleasantly,
+"but the agent of the Royal Mail here won't sell me a ticket until
+you've put your seal to this." He extended a piece of printed
+paper.
+
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave.
+He accepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded
+the senator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of
+genuine concern.
+
+"It is most unfortunate," he said. "But I am afraid the ROYAL MAIL
+will not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas," he explained.
+"If we had only known!" he added remorsefully. "It is MOST
+unfortunate."
+
+"Because of Las Bocas?" echoed Hanley.
+
+"You don't mean they'll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I
+spent half an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky
+gramophone?"
+
+"The trouble," explained Marshall, "is this: if they carried you,
+all the other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days,
+and there are fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over
+the mails. But," he added hopefully, "maybe the regulations have
+been altered. I will see her captain, and tell him----"
+
+"See her captain!" objected Hanley. "Why see the captain? He
+doesn't know I've been to that place. Why tell him? All I need is
+a clean bill of health from you. That's all HE wants. You have only
+to sign that paper." Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+
+"But I can't," he said.
+
+"You can't? Why not?"
+
+"Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las
+Bocas. Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas."
+
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated
+himself, and stared at Marshall curiously.
+
+"It's like this, Mr. Marshall," he began quietly. "The President
+desires my presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to
+him there in helping carry out certain party measures--measures to
+which he pledged himself before his election. Down here, a British
+steamship line has laid down local rules which, in my case anyway,
+are ridiculous. The question is, are you going to be bound by the
+red tape of a ha'penny British colony, or by your oath to the
+President of the United States?"
+
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook
+his head.
+
+"I'm afraid, Senator," he said, "that way of putting it is hardly
+fair. Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to
+the captain----"
+
+"You will explain nothing to the captain!" interrupted Hanley.
+"This is a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am
+not asking favors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American
+consul to assist an American citizen in trouble, and, "he added,
+with heavy sarcasm, "incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his
+President."
+
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise
+and disbelief.
+
+"Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?" he said. "Are
+you serious?"
+
+"That paper, Mr. Marshall," returned Hanley steadily, "is a mere
+form, a piece of red tape. There's no more danger of my carrying
+the plague to Jamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You KNOW
+that."
+
+"I DO know that," assented Marshall heartily."I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim
+of a regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most
+unfair to you. My own position," he added, "is not important, but
+you can believe me, it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for
+me to be unable to help you."
+
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes
+watching Marshall closely. "Then you refuse?" he said. "Why?"
+
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled.
+The look he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+
+"You know why," he answered quietly. "It is impossible."
+
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind
+his desk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men
+confronted each other. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and
+threatening.
+
+"Then I am to understand," he exclaimed, "that you refuse to carry
+out the wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of
+the United States?"
+
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the
+consulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon
+it.
+
+"I refuse," he corrected, "to place the seal of this consulate on
+a lie."
+
+There was a moment's pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and
+unable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the
+floor. Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a
+step nearer and, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on
+the desk. With the air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke
+slowly and softly.
+
+"Do you appreciate," he asked, "that, while you may be of some
+importance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am
+supposed to carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a
+senator from a State that numbers four millions of people, and that
+you are preventing me from serving those people?"
+ Marshall inclined his head gravely and politely.
+ "And I want you to appreciate," he said, "that while I have no
+weight at Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to
+represent eighty millions of people, and as long as that consular
+sign is over my door I don't intend to prostitute it for YOU, or
+the President of the United States, or any one of those eighty
+millions."
+
+
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed
+shortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and
+indifferently, as though the incident no longer interested him,
+drew out his watch.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he said, "if the cable is working, I'll take your
+tin sign away from you by sunset."
+
+For one of Marshall's traditions, to such a speech there was no
+answer save silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and
+undismayed, resumed his seat. From the contest, judging from the
+manner of each, it was Marshall, not Hanley, who had emerged
+victorious.
+
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow,
+Marshall had turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less
+alert, his broad shoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own
+eyes filled with sudden tears.
+
+"What will you do?" she whispered.
+
+"I don't know what I shall do," said Marshall simply. "I should
+have liked to have resigned. It's a prettier finish. After forty
+years--to be dismissed by cable is--it's a poor way of ending it."
+
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and
+looked back.
+
+"I am sorry," she said. And both understood that in saying no more
+than that she had best shown her sympathy.
+
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more
+directly.
+
+"If he comes on board my ship," roared that gentleman, "I'll push
+him down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"
+
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was
+never so welcome.
+
+"You'll treat him with every courtesy," he said. "The only
+satisfaction he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We
+will not give him that satisfaction."
+
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult
+than he had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the
+war-ship, he again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the
+SERAPIS, he could not forget that his career had come to an end.
+There was much to remind him that this was so. He was made aware of
+it by the sad, sympathetic glances of the women; by their tactful
+courtesies; by the fact that Livingstone, anxious to propitiate
+Hanley, treated him rudely; by the sight of the young officers,
+each just starting upon a career of honor, and possible glory, as
+his career ended in humiliation; and by the big war-ship herself,
+that recalled certain crises when he had only to press a button and
+war-ships had come at his bidding.
+
+At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat,
+having taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to
+Jamaica, and dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his
+fate, observed her departure in silence.
+
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have
+they answered your cable, sir?" "They have," said Hanley gruffly.
+
+"Was it--was it satisfactory?" pursued the diplomat. "It WAS," said
+the senator, with emphasis.
+
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+
+"And when," he asked eagerly, "are you going to tell him?"
+
+"Now!" said the senator.
+
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the
+admiral's steam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation
+ladder and himself picked up the tiller ropes.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he called, "when I bring the launch broadside to
+the ship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul's
+salute."
+
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had
+forgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled
+to seven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the
+ceremony be omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his
+loyalty, knew that his old friend was now paying him this honor
+only as a rebuke to Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an
+honor. Hanley had made of it a mockery. It served only to emphasize
+what had been taken from him. But, without a scene, it now was too
+late to avoid it. The first of the seven guns had roared from the
+bow, and, as often he had stood before, as never he would so stand
+again, Marshall took his place at the gangway of the launch. His
+eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head was uncovered, his hat
+was pressed above his heart.
+
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell
+into sudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions.
+Indignant at the thought, he held himself erect. His face was set
+like a mask, his eyes were untroubled. He was determined they
+should not see that he was suffering.
+
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There
+was an echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted
+seven, and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the
+gangway.
+
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall,
+confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily
+returned to his place. But again before he could leave it, in
+savage haste a ninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not
+still be mistaken. He turned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of
+the admiral were fixed upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the
+silence. Was it a jest? Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed
+miserably. He gave a swift glance toward the others. They were
+smiling. Then it was a jest. Behind his back, something of which
+they all were cognizant was going forward. The face of Livingstone
+alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own. But the others, who
+knew, were mocking him.
+
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of
+Porto Banos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl
+slowly from the mast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by
+bursting into tears. But Marshall saw that every one else, save she
+and Livingstone, were still smiling. Even the bluejackets in charge
+of the launch were grinning at him. He was beset by smiling faces.
+And then from the war-ship, unchecked, came, against all
+regulations, three long, splendid cheers.
+
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way
+to his eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice
+trembled.
+
+"Charles," he begged, "are they laughing at me?"
+
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his
+cigar into the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by
+the hand.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he cried, "our President has great faith in Abraham
+Lincoln's judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning
+he appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I'm one of those
+politicians who keeps his word. I TOLD YOU I'd take your tin sign
+away from you by sunset. I've done it!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End ofProject Gutenberg Etext of My Buried Treasure, by R. H. Davis
+
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