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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75653 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Cover art]
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Avery Guilford Wallys' Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Title page]
+
+
+
+  The
+  TREASVRE
+  on the
+  BEACH
+
+
+  _by_ STREET &
+  FINNEY
+
+
+
+  THE SEABOARD
+  AIR LINE RAILWAY
+  Passenger Department
+  PORTSMOUTH VA
+
+
+
+
+  Copyright, 1906,
+  by STREET
+  & FINNEY
+  New York
+
+
+  Published for the Passenger
+  Department Seaboard Air Line
+  Railway, Portsmouth, Va.
+
+
+
+
+  The
+  TREASVRE
+  on the
+  BEACH
+
+
+He was always a queer old codger--my Great Uncle Abner.  I had never
+laid eyes on him myself, but his eccentricities were tradition to me,
+and when I thought of him at all, it was as a half-cracked old fellow
+living alone in a shack, on a sandy key, somewhere off the coast of
+Florida.  Naturally one doesn't get close-range impressions of uncles
+of this sort, especially if one's own life runs in very different
+channels, and if one has enough money to get along on, and one's
+"sandy-key-uncle" is not thought to have much of this world's goods.
+
+On the morning that Uncle Abner's letter came I had gone downstairs
+to breakfast feeling rather beastly.  I saw the large legal-looking
+envelope beside my plate, but, hardly having an appetite for eggs and
+coffee, I naturally felt no enthusiasm for mail.
+
+Drinking my coffee, I observed that the envelope was bulky--the sort
+of envelope that might contain specifications for a breach of promise
+suit.  After a few sips of coffee I found the energy to open it.
+
+
+Dear Sir:--You will find enclosed herewith a sealed letter, which we
+are forwarding to you in accordance with instructions of your late
+uncle, Abner Barker, before his death, which occurred, as you are of
+course aware, at Lone Palm Key, Florida, December 20th.  Our
+instructions were to forward the enclosed letter to you one month
+after your uncle's death, and to inform you that another letter--an
+exact duplicate in every way of this one--has been sent
+simultaneously to the only other surviving relative of Abner Barker,
+namely: Graham Stewart, of Brooklyn, N.Y.
+
+Trusting that we may hear from you in case we may be of any service,
+we remain,
+
+  Yours very truly,
+  Blackmar, Mathews & Blackmar.
+
+
+[Illustration: Harrison Fisher's Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+The letter enclosed by Blackmar, Mathews & Blackmar was in a dirty,
+home-made, yellow envelope, sealed with five large blobs of red wax.
+It read as follows:
+
+
+Nephew Allen Spencer:--I send you a chart with this letter.  If you
+are a young man of any energy or ability--which I very much doubt--it
+will be worth your while to investigate this chart, and put it to
+whatever use it may suggest.
+
+I shall send another chart exactly like this one to Graham Stewart,
+of Brooklyn, who is the only other relative to survive me.  This
+letter will be held by my attorneys until one month after the day of
+my death and will then be forwarded to you.  I shall watch your use
+of it with interest, from the spirit-land.  I understand that you are
+a frivolous, idle youth, who are not likely to seize your
+opportunities.
+
+  Your uncle,
+      Abner Barker.
+
+
+I unfolded the chart.  It was a queer looking thing, carefully drawn
+upon yellow wrapping paper.  It conjured up recollections of
+Stevenson's "Treasure Island" and pictures of savage-looking
+buccaneers, and desolate, sandy beaches.  There was a square marked
+"_House_," with a dotted line running through the middle of it.  Then
+there were innumerable other spots, and dots, and lines signified
+variously.  The word "_spring_" was written at one point; "_Lone Palm
+Tree_" at another.  In the centre of a circle, to which led dotted
+lines, my eyes were arrested by the words: "_Treasure buried here_."
+
+I had imagined Uncle Abner a prosaic man; now it seemed I was wrong.
+He was a dreamer on his sandy key; he lived with the shades of
+corsairs and saw ghostly galleons riding at anchor off his strip of
+coast.  Poor old Uncle Abner!  There was something grimly grotesque
+in the situation.  One does not associate charts and buried treasure
+with a light noon breakfast in a clubhouse on Fifth Avenue.
+
+I think it was a flurry of cold rain upon the window which first
+turned my thoughts seriously toward Lone Palm Key.  New York is a
+beastly place in a January thaw.  I imagined the sun shining warmly
+at Palm Beach, girls in pretty summer dresses and men in tennis
+flannels.  Then again I heard the swish of the rain against the
+window, and looking out, saw a cab horse slip and fall upon the
+asphalt.
+
+"Buried treasure or no buried treasure," I said to myself, "Uncle
+Abner has given me a good idea.  I'll go to Florida this very
+afternoon."
+
+A line from Blackmar, Mathews & Blackmar's letter caught my eye:
+
+
+----The only other surviving relative of Abner Barker, namely Graham
+Stewart, of Brooklyn, N.Y.----
+
+
+Who was Graham Stewart?  I had never heard of him before.  Most
+probably a relative on the other side of Uncle Abner's family.  Had
+he received his letter?  Perhaps even now he was hurrying South ahead
+of me!
+
+I had Henry look up trains at once and sent word upstairs to have my
+trunk and bag packed with nice, summery things for Florida.
+
+An hour later, as I drove to the 23rd Street Ferry, and saw the cold
+rain streaking down the carriage windows, I felt genuinely grateful
+to old Uncle Abner for bequeathing me this excellent excuse for
+getting out of town.
+
+After all, there was something like sport in going down to Florida to
+look for treasure.  The idea appealed to me more and more.  I felt
+that I was in a race with Graham Stewart.  As the Seaboard Florida
+Limited drew out of the Pennsylvania Terminal, and started on its run
+toward warmth, sunshine and Uncle Abner's treasure--_perhaps_ Uncle
+Abner's treasure--I settled myself and began a close inspection of my
+fellow-travellers.  If Graham Stewart was on the train I wished to
+pick him out.  And something told me he _was_ on the train.  I made a
+mental inventory of my fellow-passengers.  Was _he_ Graham--that slim
+youth in section twelve?  He had pale hair and wore glasses, and
+looked at though he _might_ live in Brooklyn.
+
+But no; he was calm.  Graham would be nervous.
+
+The keen-faced old man in section five was a likelier specimen; men
+with gray beards and smooth shaven upper lips are usually seekers for
+treasure, either buried or unburied.  I leaned forward and tried to
+get a glimpse of the letter he was reading, but as I looked he tucked
+it away in an inside vest pocket.  I would hunt him up later and ply
+him with talk of "Treasure Island," old coins and things of that sort.
+
+[Illustration: Sewell Collins' Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+By all odds the most interesting passenger was the girl in section
+seven--the girl with the big, blue eyes and long dark fringe for
+lashes.  Every time I looked at her my interest in the buried
+treasure dwindled.  I wished that she sat opposite instead of several
+sections off, for I have a rather useful set of plans that often
+work, when girls sit opposite in Pullman Cars.  But alas!  How seldom
+the pretty girls _do_ sit opposite!  I always draw a fat man in a
+skull cap, or a wheezy old lady who uses peppermint!  There always is
+a pretty girl, but she is invariably placed far from where I sit.  On
+this particular occasion she was so pretty--so very pretty--that I
+grew morbid on the subject.  What a dull, stupid thing a bachelor
+life can be!  I have no doubt I stared at her, as I reflected thus,
+for presently she brought me to with a frosty little look.  Pulling
+myself together hastily I went into the combination car to drink and
+smoke and think it over--no, not the girl, the buried treasure!
+
+The old man I had picked out for Graham Stewart came in not long
+after, and sitting near me, lit a very bad cigar.  We drifted into
+conversation and, quite casually, I managed to speak of "Treasure
+Island."
+
+He said he had never heard of it--or Stevenson.
+
+I told him of the book; of the map in the front of it, that showed
+where the gold was hidden.  Then I professed great interest in old
+coins.
+
+My efforts were rewarded by the strange side-long glance he gave me
+and when, shortly after, I began to speak of pirates he left me
+suddenly.  Later, I noticed the porter and the Pullman Car conductor
+regarding me with interest.  When, before the trip was over, I gained
+the porter's confidence (at reasonable cost) I learned that the old
+man with the white whiskers had told them I was crazy--that I talked
+wildly of most extraordinary things.  Evidently the old boy was not
+Uncle Abner's heir, after all.
+
+That evening after dinner I took out the letter and the map and
+studied them with care.  The more I did so the more ridiculous they
+seemed.  There is something indescribably grotesque in starting off
+to hunt for buried treasure in an electric lighted Limited.  I felt
+that I ought to be dressed in Oriental togs with a red handkerchief
+about my head and a pair of flint-lock pistols in my belt.  When the
+girl with the long lashes passed and glanced in my direction with
+cold, unseeing eyes, I felt more ridiculous than ever.  How could a
+man hunt gold, I asked myself, with girls like that abroad?
+
+And immediately two impulses seized me.
+
+"Graham Stewart and the treasure be hanged!" I resolved, crumpling
+Uncle Abner's chart in my hand.  "I'll go back in the Pullman and
+have a look at the young lady--even if I can't talk with her."
+
+But as I walked through the train I smoothed out the map and laid it
+away in my wallet.  When convention and the girl frown, I might as
+well have something, I thought, to fall back on.
+
+She was sitting with some magazines in her lap, gazing vacantly into
+the night.  I passed without apparently noticing her and sat
+dejectedly in my section.  Man's sadness will awaken a woman's
+interest where nothing else will, you know.  And before long the
+corners of my eyes caught a suspicion of sympathy in her regard, as
+if she read trouble in the countenance I was furrowing for her, and
+was sorry.
+
+Without seeming to look in her direction I sighed the manliest sigh I
+could muster.  I seemed to feel her sympathy deepen to pity and
+then--crash!  Her magazines slid to the floor.  I sprang to collect
+them for her.  But confound these women prigs!--that was all.  She
+thanked me haughtily, rang for the porter and ordered her berth made
+up.
+
+I went forward for a smoke, was drawn into a game, and forgot about
+treasure and stingy, sneaking cousins and disagreeable eye-lash girls
+until late the next morning.
+
+[Illustration: Leon de Bernebruch's Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+I did feel a good deal hurt, however, when I went by the young person
+on my way to breakfast that she didn't seem to know me from the
+porter.  I cursed civilization that makes Fate and girls cruel, and
+stayed away all day to show her I didn't even think of her.  I really
+did think very little.  I was canvassing the train for a
+treasure-troving male relative.  I satisfied myself he was not
+aboard.  But the thought of that unapproachable young woman robbed me
+somewhat of my gratification.
+
+When we reached Palm Beach I drove directly to the Royal Poinciana.
+I rather expected that the girl might be there, too, but I did not
+catch sight of her that evening, nor of any man that could possibly
+be Graham Stewart.
+
+In the romantic surroundings of the Poinciana the interest of my
+quest returned.  Down there, the thought of buried treasure did not
+seem so strange.  Before retiring I ordered a steam launch to take me
+to Lone Palm Key at nine o'clock the following morning.
+
+It was ten when I woke up.  Hurriedly I dressed and breakfasted, but
+it was noon when I set out, first making an arrangement with the
+launch's engineer to do some digging for me when we reached the key.
+
+All my eagerness returned as we approached the long, low strip of
+land where poor old Uncle Abner lived so many years.  A sloop, with
+idly flapping sails, lay at anchor near the little landing, telling
+me that in all probability my remote connection, Graham Stewart, had
+reached the key before me.
+
+I felt genuine excitement mingled with chagrin as we drew near.  How
+long had he been there?  Had he found the treasure?  How would he
+receive me?
+
+My captain knew the captain of the "Jennie May," and hailed him as we
+came alongside.
+
+"What you doin' 'way out here, Cap'n Bill?"
+
+"Got a lady," Captain Bill replied.  "She's over there beyond that
+sand dune, havin' a picnic all to herself.  Didn't say she was
+_expectin'_ no one."  He eyed me disapprovingly as he spoke.
+
+So it was not Graham Stewart after all!  That was a relief, though I
+was sorry anyone was there.  I should feel foolish digging for Uncle
+Abner's treasure if a gull watched me, let alone a girl!
+
+Leaving the engineer to anchor and follow later with the shovels we
+had brought, I jumped ashore and hastened up the low sand hill, above
+the top of which I saw the lone palm tree from which the key took its
+name.  From the top I could see old Uncle Abner's shack perhaps a
+quarter of a mile away.  Then my eye was arrested by a white figure
+near the deserted little house.  It was the figure of a woman, and
+horrors! she was digging in the sand.  I hastened on and presently
+came up with her.  Her back was turned.  She did not see me as I
+stood for a moment, amused, watching her pathetic efforts with a
+funny little shovel, such as is used for putting coals in kitchen
+ranges.  She was working in a desultory way that plainly showed
+discouragement.
+
+"Can I help?" I said to her at last.
+
+With a little cry she dropped her shovel and turned toward me.  It
+was my turn to be startled.  She was the girl of the Seaboard Florida
+Limited--the girl with the long lashes!
+
+We stood there staring at each other for a moment.  She was
+belligerent, resentful; but I saw at once that she remembered me.
+
+"I got here first!" she cried, "it's mine!"
+
+I looked about at the pathetic little holes she had been digging.
+
+"What's yours?" I asked.
+
+"You know!" she exclaimed; "you know well enough.  It's the treasure!"
+
+"Well," I said, "Uncle Abner invited me, too."
+
+"But I got here first!" she repeated vehemently.
+
+"You don't seem to have made much of your time," I suggested.
+
+She stooped and picked up her little shovel.  "I don't need any
+help," she replied.
+
+"Another thing," said I.  "I am not sure that you have any right to
+be digging here at all; the lawyer's letter said the only other
+person beside myself who knew about the treasure was a man named
+Graham Stewart."
+
+"A man named Graham Stewart?"
+
+I drew the letter from my pocket and showed her.
+
+"It doesn't say a _man_," she explained; "see, it only says '_namely_
+Graham Stewart.'"
+
+"Never mind," said I, "Graham Stewart is a man's name.  That's plain
+enough.  And I don't know whether I ought to stand 'round and let you
+rob him this way."
+
+"This way!" she asked, pointing at her little diggings.
+
+"No, not precisely that way," I said, laughing.  "You'll have to rob
+him worse than that or I don't believe he'll notice it."
+
+"Set your mind at rest," she snapped, "I am Graham Stewart myself!"
+
+"But Graham is a man's name," I protested.
+
+"Do you imagine I have been named Graham all these years," she said,
+"without knowing that!  Don't you suppose that I get advertising
+circulars in every mail, addressed to _Mister_ Graham Stewart?'
+Don't you suppose men's tailors and men's haberdashers send me
+letters asking for my custom?  That name has been a life-long horror
+to me!  I can never make them believe that I don't want things like
+razors and Scotch Whiskey."
+
+"Well, it's a very pretty name," I said lamely.  "By the way, don't
+you think you received me rather coldly, considering that we are
+cousins?"
+
+"We are _not_ cousins!" she cried.
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, "we are.  We're sort of cousins anyhow."
+
+"But I don't want to be your cousin," she protested.
+
+"Oh," I said, "don't worry about that.  Cousins can marry, especially
+if they are not first cousins."
+
+"That is impertinent!" she answered.  "Really, I can't talk to you
+any longer," and she turned away as if to dig.
+
+"Very well," I said, moving off a step or two; "I am sorry, because I
+was just about to show you the spot where you ought to dig.  Now I
+shall find it by myself."
+
+She gave a little start, but did not answer.  I walked over to my
+late uncle's house and sitting in the shadow produced the map and
+appeared to study it, while the girl went on digging grimly.
+
+"Why didn't you have Captain Bill come up and dig!" I called to her,
+as the man from my launch appeared with the shovels.
+
+"I didn't want to let him know about the treasure," she replied.  "I
+don't think it's safe."
+
+"That's a good idea," said I, taking the shovels from my man and
+telling him to return to the boat and await me there.
+
+Again, for a time I watched her delve in silence.  What a pretty girl
+she was in her trim duck suit!  At last I roused myself.  I had come
+to Lone Palm Key to look for buried treasure and I must begin at
+once.  The chart was simple enough, now that I was on the ground.  I
+had but to pace off twenty steps of an imaginary line running through
+the centre of Uncle Abner's shack, toward the lone palm tree to point
+"A"; then, going to the spring a few rods behind the house I must
+pace off twenty-seven more in the direction of the palm tree, thus
+establishing the point "B," upon the map.  To find point "C," I had
+merely to reach a spot equidistant between points "A" and "B."  Here
+the treasure should be buried.
+
+I rose at once and paced it out, noting as I did so that "the only
+other surviving relative" watched me with ill concealed anxiety.
+When I felt sure that I had found point "C," I threw my coat upon the
+sand, seized a shovel and began to dig.  Watching Graham (some forty
+feet away) from the corner of my eye, I presently discovered that she
+was coming toward me.  I dug more vigorously than ever, affecting not
+to notice her as she stood by and watched me.  At last she spoke.
+
+"I don't think," she ventured, "I _really_ don't think you're digging
+in exactly the right place."  Her voice betrayed no certainty,
+however.
+
+"I'm satisfied," I said.  "You let me dig here and you can have all
+the rest of the key for your own purposes."
+
+She was silent for a time.  "I thought perhaps"--she said at last,
+her voice quavering, "I thought that I might help you."
+
+"Oh, I'm a pretty good digger, thanks," said I.
+
+"Don't you think," she said, "that our maps may not be just alike?"
+
+"Oh, _my_ map is all right," I answered.'
+
+After watching me for a moment more: "I'm completely worn out," she
+said, "digging here all day in the hot sun.  I think I'll have to
+go."  She turned and walked a step or two, then:
+
+"I am _hungry_, too," she added weakly.
+
+"I'm sorry," I replied.  "But you know when I came up at first,
+wanting to help you, you sent me off about my business."
+
+"Yes," she answered sadly, "I did, and it was rude.  I am sorry.  But
+I did want that treasure so much!"
+
+I could resist her no longer when I saw that there were tears in
+those big eyes of hers.
+
+"Suppose," I suggested, "we make it partners?"
+
+"Oh, would you?" she exclaimed, advancing eagerly.
+
+"Yes," I said, "if you'll do just what I tell you to."
+
+"Wait!" she cried, "I'll get my shovel."
+
+"No," I said, "you're not to dig; I'll do that.  You're to go down to
+my launch and eat.  I brought a lunch basket along.  How could a
+hungry man find buried treasure, or a hungry woman, either?"
+
+"You're awfully, awfully generous," she smiled, "but let me stay here
+for a while and watch you.  I'm sure you'll find the treasure before
+long.  Then we can go and eat _together_."
+
+"Delighted," I said.  "Your presence will encourage me.  You're the
+sort of a partner to spur a man to do his best."
+
+"Thanks," she answered, and I thought she flushed a little.
+
+She watched me as I dug silently and perspiringly for the better part
+of half an hour.  From the treasure-hunting stories I had read I knew
+exactly what sound to expect when my spade should scrape against the
+casket in which the treasure lay.  When I had reached a depth of
+perhaps four feet, the work grew tiresome.  Graham stirred about
+uneasily.  At last she spoke.  "Would you mind listening to a
+suggestion from your partner?" she inquired.
+
+I was glad of an opportunity to stop digging.
+
+"No, indeed," I answered, resting on my shovel and looking up at her.
+
+"How tall are you?" she asked, it seemed to me irrelevantly.
+
+"Twenty-nine--I mean five-feet-eleven-and-a-half," I answered.  "How
+old are you?"
+
+She gave me a cool glance.  "I don't think my age has any bearing on
+the matter," she replied with dignity.
+
+"You asked _me_ a leading question," I plead.
+
+"Don't be silly," she said.  "Listen; it occurs to me that you are
+much taller than our common uncle was, and----"
+
+"He _was_ common," I interrupted, "it took a common mind to devise a
+miserable trick like this!"
+
+"Mr. Spencer," she said sharply, "do you wish to hear what I have to
+say, or do you not?"
+
+"Partner," I replied contritely, "I _do_, and I beg a thousand
+pardons for interrupting with my foolish prattle."
+
+"A fitting apology," Graham said, with what seemed to me an effort at
+severity.  "What I have been trying to suggest was this: You are
+almost six feet tall.  Uncle Abner was much shorter; also he was old.
+Is it not possible that you have paced off longer steps than he took?"
+
+"Bully!" I cried, scrambling out of the pit which I had digged.
+"You're a partner to be proud of!"
+
+"I should think," she ventured, "that my steps would give about the
+right measure.  I had the map worked out all wrong; it remained for
+you to solve _that_ part.  But I'm awfully glad to be of some use in
+the partnership."
+
+She picked up her dainty skirts and paced the distance off, I
+standing by, meanwhile, to watch her graceful movements and her trim,
+pretty feet.  The point which she ultimately reached was several
+yards nearer the hut than where my hole was dug.
+
+Somewhat cooler from the short cessation of my labors, I now pitched
+in anew.  Two feet; three feet; three-and-a-half.  Was this to be
+another false scent?  When I reached a depth of about four feet I
+paused and looked at her.
+
+Her eyes were big and bright.  She shook her head as though to say:
+"A little farther."
+
+Again I plunged my spade into the damp sand.  I thrilled all through
+as I felt it scrape against something hard--something metallic!  Two
+more shovelfuls and I had disclosed the object.  I picked it up and
+held it out to Graham.  Despite our eagerness we burst into a gale of
+laughter.  It was a tomato can--quite empty, too!
+
+Graham's laughter stopped suddenly.  "Oh!" she gasped, "how did it
+_get_ there?  We are on the right track!  Uncle Abner must have
+thrown it in when he buried the treasure!"
+
+"Great!" I cried, and then in sudden afterthought: "unless----!"
+
+"Unless----?"
+
+"Unless," I said, "unless _someone else_ has been here before us!"
+
+She looked into my eyes with horror at the thought, twisting her
+handkerchief nervously in her slender hands.
+
+"Heavens!" she exclaimed, "you _do_ think of the most unpleasant
+things!"  Then, waving her arms excitedly.  "Dig!" she cried.  "For
+goodness' sake, dig!  Let's have this suspense over with!"
+
+I did dig and presently my industry was rewarded by the discovery of
+an empty beer bottle and a sardine can.
+
+"Uncle Abner lived high, out here on the key," I said, holding the
+trophies up for her inspection.
+
+"Dig!  Dig!" was her only answer.
+
+Again I got to work.  This time I suppose I dug for three-quarters of
+an hour.  The hole grew quite deep, but disclosed not so much as a
+buried button.  I was very warm and very hungry.  So I pronounced
+myself exhausted and asked Graham if she wouldn't let me rest a
+minute.
+
+She said I could, so we got the captains to bring up my lunch basket
+and Graham's parasol from the boats.  Then we settled down to a
+little spread on the spot.  We fastened the parasol to a shovel
+handle and Graham let me sit down beside her in the shade.  I've
+never had such fun lunching as on that day.  The sandwiches were so
+good and Graham and the ginger ale so refreshing thas I was
+heart-broken when there wasn't a drop or a crumb or an excuse to sit
+there any longer.
+
+So I dug again, and we were such friends by that time that Graham
+kept telling me not to work too hard and get all tired out.  After a
+few moments she gave a little scream of delight and leaning over
+picked a corroded coin from the shovelful I had thrown out.  I took
+it from her and rubbed its surface.  It looked like a Mexican dollar,
+but I couldn't make out.
+
+"Oh, won't you dig?" cried Graham, in an agony of impatience.
+
+Once more I thrust my spade into the sand.  It stopped suddenly.
+This time it was neither can nor bottle, but something which toon
+proved to be a sound oak plank.  A few mad spadefuls more and it was
+clear that the plank was the cover of a heavy box, cleated, bound and
+hinged with iron.
+
+Graham stood above me gazing down with clenched hands and dilated
+eyes.
+
+The box was wedged so fast in the sand that when I first tried to
+lift it I mistook the sand's firm grip for the weight of gold within.
+After some fifteen minutes' rapid work I managed to dig it clear.
+But when I lifted it my heart sank.  It was very light!
+
+I tossed it out of the hole as easily as I could have tossed an empty
+steamer trunk.  It fell upon its side and the cover dropped open,
+revealing the interior.  I leaped from the hole and stood beside
+Graham.  She was staring fixedly at the box and as I came near her
+she reached out and steadied herself by placing her hand upon my arm.
+
+Alas! for our dream of buried treasure!  Save for one object, the box
+was empty.  Rushing forward I reached in and drew that object forth.
+It was a New York newspaper, more than a year old and wrapped within
+it was a Seaboard Air Line timetable, of equally ancient date.
+
+These pathetic relics I placed in Graham's hands.  She stared at them
+blankly.
+
+"Well, partner," I said, "there's the treasure!  I make you a free
+gift of my half of it."
+
+The comedy of it all burst in on me now.  The lawyer's pedantic
+letter.  Uncle Abner's chart and acid note to me, my race with
+Graham--Graham, whom I had mistaken for a gray-bearded old man upon
+the train--my meeting with her lovely self upon the key, our
+partnership and its result.  I laughed, and laughed, and laughed,
+until I nearly fell into the pit that I had digged.  Then
+suddenly--quite as suddenly as I had begun--I stopped, for I saw
+Graham.  What a selfish beast a man can be!  Could I not have
+foreseen that this insane treasure hunt which was little more than
+sport to me, might to Graham be a vitally important thing?  What did
+I know of her circumstances?  What right had I to conclude that
+she----?  Outlined sharply against the sunset sky I saw her swaying
+where she stood.  There were tears in her eyes.  I hurried to her and
+she leaned against me weakly.
+
+"I am sorry," I said, "awfully, awfully sorry!"
+
+She looked at me and tried to smile.  "I am glad," she said in a
+quavering voice, "I am glad that you can laugh.  I wish _I_ could."
+
+"Try!" I begged, "oh, please do try!  I love you when you laugh--when
+you _don't_ laugh, too, of course--but really, Graham, really!  I
+cannot bear to see you cry!"
+
+I don't know just how I got them, but I suddenly found that I was
+holding both her hands, as I entreated.  I don't think she knew it
+any more than I did when I took them.
+
+"Don't feel badly about it!" I begged her.  "What's the use?  You
+must see that it's a joke--a joke on both of us.  Either someone got
+here first and took the treasure off, or Uncle Abner thought he'd
+have post-mortem fun with his surviving relatives.  You see, Graham,"
+(I think I may have said "Graham _dear_") "you see the joke, don't
+you?"
+
+"The wicked old man!" she cried.  "It's no joke to me.  It comes near
+a tragedy!  It cost me almost everything I had to come here.  If
+that's a joke, I call it a hard one!"  She was radiant in her anger.
+I was spell-bound as I watched her.
+
+[Illustration: Will Grefé's Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+"That is tough," I exclaimed, "you have no idea how sorry I
+am--honestly you haven't!"  I think I must have squeezed her hands,
+for she looked at them and drew them from mine with a conscious
+little blush.
+
+"Don't you think we'd better be going to the boats?" she ventured.
+"It's after sunset."
+
+"Since you put it as a question, no!" I answered.  "I see no reason
+why we should go to the boats.  As for the sunset, they have these
+every night down here; but you and I don't meet every day upon this
+key.  We ought to make the most of it!"
+
+"But it's all done--the treasure hunt," she said, digging a little
+hole in the sand with the toe of her white canvas shoe.
+
+"It's _not_ all done!" I cried.  "_Yours_ may be finished, but mine
+is just beginning and I give you fair warning, here and now, dear
+Graham," (I said the "dear" quite plainly this time), "that this
+_new_ treasure hunt of mine is going to make the old one look like
+the picnic party it was!"
+
+"Really--really----" she began.
+
+"Yes, really!" I exclaimed.
+
+"I assure you," she faltered; "I assure you, I don't know--I don't
+know what you----"
+
+"Oh, Graham, Graham!" I cried, "you've been reading novels.  That's
+what girls always say in novels--'I don't know what you mean.'  Yet,
+they all _do_ know what he means, just as well as you know what _I_
+mean!"
+
+The digging she was doing with her little slipper interested her more
+than ever now.
+
+"Graham," I continued, "whether you knew or not, I would have told
+you what I meant.  I wouldn't lose the luxury of telling you, for
+worlds!  This is it: I came here to hunt for treasure----"
+
+"_Buried_ treasure?" she inquired, smiling faintly at the toe of her
+white slipper.
+
+"But we didn't find the buried treasure," I pleaded.  "_You_ found
+nothing but me--to help you dig.  But _I_ discovered something more
+than buried treasure.  I found out where there was a treasure--a
+living treasure--greater than jewels and gold could ever be!  It's a
+treasure I can't reach by digging in the sand, Graham.  It must be
+given to me freely, and by you!"
+
+She was silent for a moment, then she faced me.
+
+"It's because you're sorry for me," she said, flushing; "I thank you,
+but I can't accept a sacrifice like that!"
+
+"No, dear Graham," I persisted, "it's not because I'm sorry for you.
+I'll be sorry for you, though, if you don't take me now--sorry to see
+you dogged, and pestered, and followed everywhere, and worshipped by
+a man like me, until you have to take him to avoid his persistence!"
+
+She smiled at me frankly.  "You have no idea," she laughed, "how I
+long to say 'This is so sudden,' but after 'I don't know what you
+mean,' I am afraid to!"
+
+"Do save yourself a lot of trouble," I warned again, "by taking me
+now, Graham, instead of waiting until I get you."
+
+"I suppose," she said, "I suppose I might at well."
+
+I shan't tell you what happened then, but in my haste to do something
+(mind I don't say what) I almost tumbled into Uncle Abner's treasure
+pit.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The "Jennie May" sailed home, a little later, without the passenger
+she had brought to Lone Palm Key.  Graham and I returned in the steam
+launch.  When I insisted that the only two surviving relatives of
+Uncle Abner be made one at once, Graham said--you know what she said,
+as well as I do.  She simply couldn't help it.  It was:
+
+"But, really, this is so sudden!"
+
+
+
+END
+
+
+
+[Illustration: C. D. Williams' Idea of the Heroine.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75653 ***
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+<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
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+
+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The treasure on the beach, 
+by Street & Finney
+</title>
+
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75653 ***</div>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-cover"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover.jpg" alt="Cover art">
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-front"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt="Avery Guilford Wallys' Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+Avery Guilford Wallys' Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-title"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-title.jpg" alt="Title page">
+</p>
+
+<h1>
+<br><br>
+  The<br>
+  TREASVRE<br>
+  on the<br>
+  BEACH<br>
+</h1>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+  <i>by</i> STREET &<br>
+  FINNEY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+  THE SEABOARD<br>
+  AIR LINE RAILWAY<br>
+  Passenger Department<br>
+  PORTSMOUTH VA<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+  Copyright, 1906,<br>
+  by STREET<br>
+  & FINNEY<br>
+  New York<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+  Published for the Passenger<br>
+  Department Seaboard Air Line<br>
+  Railway, Portsmouth, Va.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+  The<br>
+  TREASVRE<br>
+  on the<br>
+  BEACH<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+He was always a queer old codger&mdash;my
+Great Uncle Abner.  I had
+never laid eyes on him myself, but
+his eccentricities were tradition to
+me, and when I thought of him at all, it was
+as a half-cracked old fellow living alone in a
+shack, on a sandy key, somewhere off the coast
+of Florida.  Naturally one doesn't get close-range
+impressions of uncles of this sort, especially
+if one's own life runs in very different channels,
+and if one has enough money to get along on,
+and one's "sandy-key-uncle" is not thought to
+have much of this world's goods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morning that Uncle Abner's letter
+came I had gone downstairs to breakfast feeling
+rather beastly.  I saw the large legal-looking
+envelope beside my plate, but, hardly having an
+appetite for eggs and coffee, I naturally felt no
+enthusiasm for mail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drinking my coffee, I observed that the
+envelope was bulky&mdash;the sort of envelope that
+might contain specifications for a breach of
+promise suit.  After a few sips of coffee I found
+the energy to open it.
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Dear Sir:&mdash;You will find enclosed herewith
+a sealed letter, which we are forwarding
+to you in accordance with instructions
+of your late uncle, Abner Barker, before
+his death, which occurred, as you are of
+course aware, at Lone Palm Key, Florida,
+December 20th.  Our instructions were to
+forward the enclosed letter to you one
+month after your uncle's death, and to
+inform you that another letter&mdash;an exact
+duplicate in every way of this one&mdash;has been
+sent simultaneously to the only other
+surviving relative of Abner Barker, namely:
+Graham Stewart, of Brooklyn, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Trusting that we may hear from you in
+case we may be of any service, we remain,
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+  Yours very truly,<br>
+  Blackmar, Mathews & Blackmar.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><p class="letter"><p class="letter"></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-006"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-006.jpg" alt="Harrison-Fisher's Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+Harrison Fisher's Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The letter enclosed by Blackmar, Mathews
+&amp; Blackmar was in a dirty, home-made, yellow
+envelope, sealed with five large blobs of red
+wax.  It read as follows:
+</p>
+
+<p><p class="letter"></p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Nephew Allen Spencer:&mdash;I send you a
+chart with this letter.  If you are a young
+man of any energy or ability&mdash;which I
+very much doubt&mdash;it will be worth your
+while to investigate this chart, and put it to
+whatever use it may suggest.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+I shall send another chart exactly like
+this one to Graham Stewart, of Brooklyn,
+who is the only other relative to survive me.
+This letter will be held by my attorneys
+until one month after the day of my death
+and will then be forwarded to you.  I
+shall watch your use of it with interest,
+from the spirit-land.  I understand that
+you are a frivolous, idle youth, who are not
+likely to seize your opportunities.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+  Your uncle,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Abner Barker.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+I unfolded the chart.  It was a queer looking
+thing, carefully drawn upon yellow wrapping
+paper.  It conjured up recollections of
+Stevenson's "Treasure Island" and pictures of
+savage-looking buccaneers, and desolate, sandy
+beaches.  There was a square marked "<i>House</i>,"
+with a dotted line running through the
+middle of it.  Then there were innumerable
+other spots, and dots, and lines signified
+variously.  The word "<i>spring</i>" was written at one
+point; "<i>Lone Palm Tree</i>" at another.  In the
+centre of a circle, to which led dotted lines, my
+eyes were arrested by the words: "<i>Treasure
+buried here</i>."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had imagined Uncle Abner a prosaic man;
+now it seemed I was wrong.  He was a dreamer
+on his sandy key; he lived with the shades of
+corsairs and saw ghostly galleons riding at
+anchor off his strip of coast.  Poor old Uncle
+Abner!  There was something grimly grotesque
+in the situation.  One does not associate charts
+and buried treasure with a light noon breakfast
+in a clubhouse on Fifth Avenue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I think it was a flurry of cold rain upon the
+window which first turned my thoughts seriously
+toward Lone Palm Key.  New York is a
+beastly place in a January thaw.  I imagined
+the sun shining warmly at Palm Beach, girls in
+pretty summer dresses and men in tennis flannels.
+Then again I heard the swish of the rain against
+the window, and looking out, saw a cab horse
+slip and fall upon the asphalt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Buried treasure or no buried treasure," I
+said to myself, "Uncle Abner has given me a
+good idea.  I'll go to Florida this very afternoon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A line from Blackmar, Mathews &amp; Blackmar's
+letter caught my eye:
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+&mdash;&mdash;The only other surviving relative of
+Abner Barker, namely Graham Stewart,
+of Brooklyn, N.Y.&mdash;&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+Who was Graham Stewart?  I had never
+heard of him before.  Most probably a relative
+on the other side of Uncle Abner's family.  Had
+he received his letter?  Perhaps even now he
+was hurrying South ahead of me!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had Henry look up trains at once and sent
+word upstairs to have my trunk and bag packed
+with nice, summery things for Florida.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An hour later, as I drove to the 23rd Street
+Ferry, and saw the cold rain streaking down
+the carriage windows, I felt genuinely grateful
+to old Uncle Abner for bequeathing me this
+excellent excuse for getting out of town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After all, there was something like sport in
+going down to Florida to look for treasure.
+The idea appealed to me more and more.
+I felt that I was in a race with Graham Stewart.
+As the Seaboard Florida Limited drew out of
+the Pennsylvania Terminal, and started on its
+run toward warmth, sunshine and Uncle
+Abner's treasure&mdash;<i>perhaps</i> Uncle Abner's
+treasure&mdash;I settled myself and began a close
+inspection of my fellow-travellers.  If Graham
+Stewart was on the train I wished to pick him
+out.  And something told me he <i>was</i> on the
+train.  I made a mental inventory of my
+fellow-passengers.  Was <i>he</i> Graham&mdash;that slim
+youth in section twelve?  He had pale hair and
+wore glasses, and looked at though he <i>might</i>
+live in Brooklyn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But no; he was calm.  Graham would be
+nervous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The keen-faced old man in section five was
+a likelier specimen; men with gray beards and
+smooth shaven upper lips are usually seekers for
+treasure, either buried or unburied.  I leaned
+forward and tried to get a glimpse of the letter
+he was reading, but as I looked he tucked it
+away in an inside vest pocket.  I would hunt
+him up later and ply him with talk of "Treasure
+Island," old coins and things of that sort.
+</p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-010"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-010.jpg" alt="Sewell Collins' Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+Sewell Collins' Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By all odds the most interesting passenger
+was the girl in section seven&mdash;the girl with the
+big, blue eyes and long dark fringe for lashes.
+Every time I looked at her my interest in the
+buried treasure dwindled.  I wished that she sat
+opposite instead of several sections off, for I
+have a rather useful set of plans that often work,
+when girls sit opposite in Pullman Cars.  But
+alas!  How seldom the pretty girls <i>do</i> sit
+opposite!  I always draw a fat man in a skull cap,
+or a wheezy old lady who uses peppermint!
+There always is a pretty girl, but she is
+invariably placed far from where I sit.  On this
+particular occasion she was so pretty&mdash;so very
+pretty&mdash;that I grew morbid on the subject.  What a
+dull, stupid thing a bachelor life can be!  I
+have no doubt I stared at her, as I reflected
+thus, for presently she brought me to with a
+frosty little look.  Pulling myself together
+hastily I went into the combination car to drink
+and smoke and think it over&mdash;no, not the girl,
+the buried treasure!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man I had picked out for Graham
+Stewart came in not long after, and sitting near
+me, lit a very bad cigar.  We drifted into
+conversation and, quite casually, I managed to
+speak of "Treasure Island."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said he had never heard of it&mdash;or
+Stevenson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him of the book; of the map in the
+front of it, that showed where the gold was
+hidden.  Then I professed great interest in old
+coins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My efforts were rewarded by the strange
+side-long glance he gave me and when, shortly
+after, I began to speak of pirates he left me
+suddenly.  Later, I noticed the porter and the
+Pullman Car conductor regarding me with interest.
+When, before the trip was over, I gained the
+porter's confidence (at reasonable cost) I
+learned that the old man with the white whiskers
+had told them I was crazy&mdash;that I talked
+wildly of most extraordinary things.  Evidently
+the old boy was not Uncle Abner's heir,
+after all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening after dinner I took out the
+letter and the map and studied them with care.
+The more I did so the more ridiculous they
+seemed.  There is something indescribably
+grotesque in starting off to hunt for buried
+treasure in an electric lighted Limited.  I felt
+that I ought to be dressed in Oriental togs with
+a red handkerchief about my head and a pair of
+flint-lock pistols in my belt.  When the girl with
+the long lashes passed and glanced in my direction
+with cold, unseeing eyes, I felt more ridiculous
+than ever.  How could a man hunt gold,
+I asked myself, with girls like that abroad?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And immediately two impulses seized me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Graham Stewart and the treasure be
+hanged!" I resolved, crumpling Uncle Abner's
+chart in my hand.  "I'll go back in the
+Pullman and have a look at the young lady&mdash;even
+if I can't talk with her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as I walked through the train I smoothed
+out the map and laid it away in my wallet.
+When convention and the girl frown, I might
+as well have something, I thought, to fall
+back on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was sitting with some magazines in her
+lap, gazing vacantly into the night.  I passed
+without apparently noticing her and sat dejectedly
+in my section.  Man's sadness will awaken
+a woman's interest where nothing else will, you
+know.  And before long the corners of my
+eyes caught a suspicion of sympathy in her
+regard, as if she read trouble in the countenance
+I was furrowing for her, and was sorry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without seeming to look in her direction I
+sighed the manliest sigh I could muster.  I
+seemed to feel her sympathy deepen to pity and
+then&mdash;crash!  Her magazines slid to the floor.
+I sprang to collect them for her.  But confound
+these women prigs!&mdash;that was all.  She thanked
+me haughtily, rang for the porter and ordered
+her berth made up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went forward for a smoke, was drawn into
+a game, and forgot about treasure and stingy,
+sneaking cousins and disagreeable eye-lash girls
+until late the next morning.
+</p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-014"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-014.jpg" alt="Leon de Bernebruch's Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+Leon de Bernebruch's Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did feel a good deal hurt, however, when I
+went by the young person on my way to breakfast
+that she didn't seem to know me from the
+porter.  I cursed civilization that makes Fate
+and girls cruel, and stayed away all day to
+show her I didn't even think of her.  I really
+did think very little.  I was canvassing the train
+for a treasure-troving male relative.  I satisfied
+myself he was not aboard.  But the thought of
+that unapproachable young woman robbed me
+somewhat of my gratification.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we reached Palm Beach I drove directly
+to the Royal Poinciana.  I rather expected
+that the girl might be there, too, but I
+did not catch sight of her that evening, nor of
+any man that could possibly be Graham Stewart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the romantic surroundings of the Poinciana
+the interest of my quest returned.  Down there,
+the thought of buried treasure did not seem so
+strange.  Before retiring I ordered a steam
+launch to take me to Lone Palm Key at nine
+o'clock the following morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was ten when I woke up.  Hurriedly I
+dressed and breakfasted, but it was noon when
+I set out, first making an arrangement with the
+launch's engineer to do some digging for me
+when we reached the key.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All my eagerness returned as we approached
+the long, low strip of land where poor old
+Uncle Abner lived so many years.  A sloop,
+with idly flapping sails, lay at anchor near the
+little landing, telling me that in all probability
+my remote connection, Graham Stewart, had
+reached the key before me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt genuine excitement mingled with chagrin
+as we drew near.  How long had he been
+there?  Had he found the treasure?  How
+would he receive me?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My captain knew the captain of the "Jennie
+May," and hailed him as we came alongside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What you doin' 'way out here, Cap'n Bill?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Got a lady," Captain Bill replied.  "She's
+over there beyond that sand dune, havin' a
+picnic all to herself.  Didn't say she was
+<i>expectin'</i> no one."  He eyed me disapprovingly
+as he spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So it was not Graham Stewart after all!
+That was a relief, though I was sorry anyone
+was there.  I should feel foolish digging for
+Uncle Abner's treasure if a gull watched me,
+let alone a girl!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Leaving the engineer to anchor and follow
+later with the shovels we had brought, I jumped
+ashore and hastened up the low sand hill, above
+the top of which I saw the lone palm tree from
+which the key took its name.  From the top I
+could see old Uncle Abner's shack perhaps a
+quarter of a mile away.  Then my eye was
+arrested by a white figure near the deserted little
+house.  It was the figure of a woman, and
+horrors! she was digging in the sand.  I hastened
+on and presently came up with her.  Her back
+was turned.  She did not see me as I stood for
+a moment, amused, watching her pathetic efforts
+with a funny little shovel, such as is used for
+putting coals in kitchen ranges.  She was
+working in a desultory way that plainly showed
+discouragement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can I help?" I said to her at last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a little cry she dropped her shovel and
+turned toward me.  It was my turn to be
+startled.  She was the girl of the Seaboard
+Florida Limited&mdash;the girl with the long lashes!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We stood there staring at each other for a
+moment.  She was belligerent, resentful; but I
+saw at once that she remembered me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I got here first!" she cried, "it's mine!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked about at the pathetic little holes she
+had been digging.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What's yours?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know!" she exclaimed; "you know
+well enough.  It's the treasure!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well," I said, "Uncle Abner invited me,
+too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I got here first!" she repeated vehemently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You don't seem to have made much of
+your time," I suggested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stooped and picked up her little shovel.
+"I don't need any help," she replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Another thing," said I.  "I am not sure
+that you have any right to be digging here at
+all; the lawyer's letter said the only other
+person beside myself who knew about the treasure
+was a man named Graham Stewart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A man named Graham Stewart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I drew the letter from my pocket and showed
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It doesn't say a <i>man</i>," she explained; "see,
+it only says '<i>namely</i> Graham Stewart.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never mind," said I, "Graham Stewart is
+a man's name.  That's plain enough.  And I
+don't know whether I ought to stand 'round
+and let you rob him this way."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This way!" she asked, pointing at her little
+diggings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, not precisely that way," I said, laughing.
+"You'll have to rob him worse than that
+or I don't believe he'll notice it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Set your mind at rest," she snapped, "I am
+Graham Stewart myself!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But Graham is a man's name," I protested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you imagine I have been named Graham
+all these years," she said, "without knowing
+that!  Don't you suppose that I get advertising
+circulars in every mail, addressed to <i>Mister</i>
+Graham Stewart?'  Don't you suppose men's
+tailors and men's haberdashers send me letters
+asking for my custom?  That name has been a
+life-long horror to me!  I can never make them
+believe that I don't want things like razors and
+Scotch Whiskey."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, it's a very pretty name," I said
+lamely.  "By the way, don't you think you received
+me rather coldly, considering that we are
+cousins?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are <i>not</i> cousins!" she cried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes," I said, "we are.  We're sort of
+cousins anyhow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I don't want to be your cousin," she
+protested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh," I said, "don't worry about that.
+Cousins can marry, especially if they are not
+first cousins."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is impertinent!" she answered.
+"Really, I can't talk to you any longer," and
+she turned away as if to dig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very well," I said, moving off a step or
+two; "I am sorry, because I was just about to
+show you the spot where you ought to dig.  Now
+I shall find it by myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gave a little start, but did not answer.
+I walked over to my late uncle's house and
+sitting in the shadow produced the map and
+appeared to study it, while the girl went on
+digging grimly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why didn't you have Captain Bill come up
+and dig!" I called to her, as the man from my
+launch appeared with the shovels.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I didn't want to let him know about the
+treasure," she replied.  "I don't think it's safe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's a good idea," said I, taking the
+shovels from my man and telling him to return
+to the boat and await me there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, for a time I watched her delve in
+silence.  What a pretty girl she was in her trim
+duck suit!  At last I roused myself.  I had
+come to Lone Palm Key to look for buried
+treasure and I must begin at once.  The chart
+was simple enough, now that I was on the
+ground.  I had but to pace off twenty steps of
+an imaginary line running through the centre of
+Uncle Abner's shack, toward the lone palm
+tree to point "A"; then, going to the spring a
+few rods behind the house I must pace off
+twenty-seven more in the direction of the palm
+tree, thus establishing the point "B," upon the
+map.  To find point "C," I had merely to reach
+a spot equidistant between points "A" and
+"B."  Here the treasure should be buried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I rose at once and paced it out, noting as I
+did so that "the only other surviving relative"
+watched me with ill concealed anxiety.  When
+I felt sure that I had found point "C," I threw
+my coat upon the sand, seized a shovel and
+began to dig.  Watching Graham (some forty
+feet away) from the corner of my eye, I
+presently discovered that she was coming toward
+me.  I dug more vigorously than ever, affecting
+not to notice her as she stood by and watched
+me.  At last she spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't think," she ventured, "I <i>really</i> don't
+think you're digging in exactly the right
+place."  Her voice betrayed no certainty, however.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm satisfied," I said.  "You let me dig
+here and you can have all the rest of the key
+for your own purposes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was silent for a time.  "I thought
+perhaps"&mdash;she said at last, her voice quavering, "I
+thought that I might help you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, I'm a pretty good digger, thanks,"
+said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you think," she said, "that our maps
+may not be just alike?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, <i>my</i> map is all right," I answered.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After watching me for a moment more: "I'm
+completely worn out," she said, "digging here
+all day in the hot sun.  I think I'll have to
+go."  She turned and walked a step or two, then:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am <i>hungry</i>, too," she added weakly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sorry," I replied.  "But you know
+when I came up at first, wanting to help you,
+you sent me off about my business."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," she answered sadly, "I did, and it
+was rude.  I am sorry.  But I did want that
+treasure so much!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could resist her no longer when I saw
+that there were tears in those big eyes of hers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Suppose," I suggested, "we make it partners?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, would you?" she exclaimed, advancing
+eagerly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," I said, "if you'll do just what I tell
+you to."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wait!" she cried, "I'll get my shovel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," I said, "you're not to dig; I'll do
+that.  You're to go down to my launch and
+eat.  I brought a lunch basket along.  How
+could a hungry man find buried treasure, or a
+hungry woman, either?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're awfully, awfully generous," she
+smiled, "but let me stay here for a while and
+watch you.  I'm sure you'll find the treasure
+before long.  Then we can go and eat
+<i>together</i>."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Delighted," I said.  "Your presence will
+encourage me.  You're the sort of a partner to
+spur a man to do his best."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thanks," she answered, and I thought she
+flushed a little.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She watched me as I dug silently and
+perspiringly for the better part of half an hour.
+From the treasure-hunting stories I had read I
+knew exactly what sound to expect when my
+spade should scrape against the casket in which
+the treasure lay.  When I had reached a depth
+of perhaps four feet, the work grew tiresome.
+Graham stirred about uneasily.  At last she
+spoke.  "Would you mind listening to a
+suggestion from your partner?" she inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was glad of an opportunity to stop digging.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, indeed," I answered, resting on my
+shovel and looking up at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How tall are you?" she asked, it seemed to
+me irrelevantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Twenty-nine&mdash;I mean five-feet-eleven-and-a-half,"
+I answered.  "How old are you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gave me a cool glance.  "I don't think
+my age has any bearing on the matter," she
+replied with dignity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You asked <i>me</i> a leading question," I plead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be silly," she said.  "Listen; it
+occurs to me that you are much taller than our
+common uncle was, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He <i>was</i> common," I interrupted, "it took
+a common mind to devise a miserable trick like
+this!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Spencer," she said sharply, "do you
+wish to hear what I have to say, or do you
+not?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Partner," I replied contritely, "I <i>do</i>, and I
+beg a thousand pardons for interrupting with my
+foolish prattle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A fitting apology," Graham said, with what
+seemed to me an effort at severity.  "What I
+have been trying to suggest was this: You are
+almost six feet tall.  Uncle Abner was much
+shorter; also he was old.  Is it not possible that
+you have paced off longer steps than he took?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bully!" I cried, scrambling out of the pit
+which I had digged.  "You're a partner to be
+proud of!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should think," she ventured, "that my
+steps would give about the right measure.  I
+had the map worked out all wrong; it remained
+for you to solve <i>that</i> part.  But I'm awfully
+glad to be of some use in the partnership."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She picked up her dainty skirts and paced
+the distance off, I standing by, meanwhile, to
+watch her graceful movements and her trim,
+pretty feet.  The point which she ultimately
+reached was several yards nearer the hut than
+where my hole was dug.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Somewhat cooler from the short cessation of
+my labors, I now pitched in anew.  Two feet;
+three feet; three-and-a-half.  Was this to be
+another false scent?  When I reached a depth
+of about four feet I paused and looked at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her eyes were big and bright.  She shook her
+head as though to say: "A little farther."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again I plunged my spade into the damp
+sand.  I thrilled all through as I felt it scrape
+against something hard&mdash;something metallic!
+Two more shovelfuls and I had disclosed the
+object.  I picked it up and held it out to
+Graham.  Despite our eagerness we burst into a
+gale of laughter.  It was a tomato can&mdash;quite
+empty, too!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Graham's laughter stopped suddenly.  "Oh!"
+she gasped, "how did it <i>get</i> there?  We are on
+the right track!  Uncle Abner must have
+thrown it in when he buried the treasure!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Great!" I cried, and then in sudden
+afterthought: "unless&mdash;&mdash;!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Unless&mdash;&mdash;?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Unless," I said, "unless <i>someone else</i> has
+been here before us!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked into my eyes with horror at the
+thought, twisting her handkerchief nervously in
+her slender hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Heavens!" she exclaimed, "you <i>do</i> think
+of the most unpleasant things!"  Then, waving
+her arms excitedly.  "Dig!" she cried.  "For
+goodness' sake, dig!  Let's have this suspense
+over with!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did dig and presently my industry was
+rewarded by the discovery of an empty beer
+bottle and a sardine can.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Uncle Abner lived high, out here on the
+key," I said, holding the trophies up for her
+inspection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dig!  Dig!" was her only answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again I got to work.  This time I suppose I
+dug for three-quarters of an hour.  The hole
+grew quite deep, but disclosed not so much as a
+buried button.  I was very warm and very
+hungry.  So I pronounced myself exhausted and
+asked Graham if she wouldn't let me rest a
+minute.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said I could, so we got the captains to
+bring up my lunch basket and Graham's parasol
+from the boats.  Then we settled down to a
+little spread on the spot.  We fastened the
+parasol to a shovel handle and Graham let me sit
+down beside her in the shade.  I've never had
+such fun lunching as on that day.  The
+sandwiches were so good and Graham and the
+ginger ale so refreshing thas I was heart-broken
+when there wasn't a drop or a crumb or an
+excuse to sit there any longer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So I dug again, and we were such friends by
+that time that Graham kept telling me not to
+work too hard and get all tired out.  After a
+few moments she gave a little scream of delight
+and leaning over picked a corroded coin from
+the shovelful I had thrown out.  I took it from
+her and rubbed its surface.  It looked like a
+Mexican dollar, but I couldn't make out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, won't you dig?" cried Graham, in an
+agony of impatience.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Once more I thrust my spade into the sand.
+It stopped suddenly.  This time it was neither
+can nor bottle, but something which toon proved
+to be a sound oak plank.  A few mad spadefuls
+more and it was clear that the plank was the
+cover of a heavy box, cleated, bound and hinged
+with iron.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Graham stood above me gazing down with
+clenched hands and dilated eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The box was wedged so fast in the sand
+that when I first tried to lift it I mistook the
+sand's firm grip for the weight of gold within.
+After some fifteen minutes' rapid work I managed
+to dig it clear.  But when I lifted it my
+heart sank.  It was very light!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I tossed it out of the hole as easily as I could
+have tossed an empty steamer trunk.  It fell
+upon its side and the cover dropped open,
+revealing the interior.  I leaped from the hole and
+stood beside Graham.  She was staring fixedly
+at the box and as I came near her she reached
+out and steadied herself by placing her hand
+upon my arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alas! for our dream of buried treasure!
+Save for one object, the box was empty.
+Rushing forward I reached in and drew that object
+forth.  It was a New York newspaper, more
+than a year old and wrapped within it was a
+Seaboard Air Line timetable, of equally
+ancient date.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These pathetic relics I placed in Graham's
+hands.  She stared at them blankly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, partner," I said, "there's the treasure!
+I make you a free gift of my half of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The comedy of it all burst in on me now.
+The lawyer's pedantic letter.  Uncle Abner's
+chart and acid note to me, my race with
+Graham&mdash;Graham, whom I had mistaken
+for a gray-bearded old man upon the train&mdash;my
+meeting with her lovely self upon the key,
+our partnership and its result.  I laughed, and
+laughed, and laughed, until I nearly fell into the
+pit that I had digged.  Then suddenly&mdash;quite
+as suddenly as I had begun&mdash;I stopped, for I
+saw Graham.  What a selfish beast a man can
+be!  Could I not have foreseen that this insane
+treasure hunt which was little more than sport
+to me, might to Graham be a vitally important
+thing?  What did I know of her circumstances?
+What right had I to conclude that she&mdash;&mdash;?
+Outlined sharply against the sunset sky I saw
+her swaying where she stood.  There were tears
+in her eyes.  I hurried to her and she leaned
+against me weakly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry," I said, "awfully, awfully sorry!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at me and tried to smile.  "I am
+glad," she said in a quavering voice, "I am
+glad that you can laugh.  I wish <i>I</i> could."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try!" I begged, "oh, please do try!  I
+love you when you laugh&mdash;when you <i>don't</i>
+laugh, too, of course&mdash;but really, Graham,
+really!  I cannot bear to see you cry!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I don't know just how I got them, but I
+suddenly found that I was holding both her hands,
+as I entreated.  I don't think she knew it any
+more than I did when I took them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't feel badly about it!" I begged her.
+"What's the use?  You must see that it's a
+joke&mdash;a joke on both of us.  Either someone
+got here first and took the treasure off, or Uncle
+Abner thought he'd have post-mortem fun with
+his surviving relatives.  You see, Graham," (I
+think I may have said "Graham <i>dear</i>") "you
+see the joke, don't you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The wicked old man!" she cried.  "It's no
+joke to me.  It comes near a tragedy!  It cost
+me almost everything I had to come here.  If
+that's a joke, I call it a hard one!"  She was
+radiant in her anger.  I was spell-bound as I watched her.
+</p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-032"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-032.jpg" alt="Will Grefé's Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+Will Grefé's Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is tough," I exclaimed, "you have no
+idea how sorry I am&mdash;honestly you haven't!"  I
+think I must have squeezed her hands, for she
+looked at them and drew them from mine with
+a conscious little blush.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you think we'd better be going to the
+boats?" she ventured.  "It's after sunset."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Since you put it as a question, no!" I
+answered.  "I see no reason why we should go to
+the boats.  As for the sunset, they have these
+every night down here; but you and I don't
+meet every day upon this key.  We ought to
+make the most of it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But it's all done&mdash;the treasure hunt," she
+said, digging a little hole in the sand with the
+toe of her white canvas shoe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's <i>not</i> all done!" I cried.  "<i>Yours</i> may be
+finished, but mine is just beginning and I give
+you fair warning, here and now, dear Graham,"
+(I said the "dear" quite plainly this time), "that
+this <i>new</i> treasure hunt of mine is going to make
+the old one look like the picnic party it was!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really&mdash;really&mdash;&mdash;" she began.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, really!" I exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I assure you," she faltered; "I assure you,
+I don't know&mdash;I don't know what you&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Graham, Graham!" I cried, "you've
+been reading novels.  That's what girls always
+say in novels&mdash;'I don't know what you mean.'  Yet,
+they all <i>do</i> know what he means, just as
+well as you know what <i>I</i> mean!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The digging she was doing with her little
+slipper interested her more than ever now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Graham," I continued, "whether you knew
+or not, I would have told you what I meant.  I
+wouldn't lose the luxury of telling you, for
+worlds!  This is it: I came here to hunt for
+treasure&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"<i>Buried</i> treasure?" she inquired, smiling
+faintly at the toe of her white slipper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But we didn't find the buried treasure," I
+pleaded.  "<i>You</i> found nothing but me&mdash;to help
+you dig.  But <i>I</i> discovered something more than
+buried treasure.  I found out where there was a
+treasure&mdash;a living treasure&mdash;greater than jewels
+and gold could ever be!  It's a treasure I can't
+reach by digging in the sand, Graham.  It must
+be given to me freely, and by you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was silent for a moment, then she faced
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's because you're sorry for me," she said,
+flushing; "I thank you, but I can't accept a
+sacrifice like that!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, dear Graham," I persisted, "it's not
+because I'm sorry for you.  I'll be sorry for
+you, though, if you don't take me now&mdash;sorry
+to see you dogged, and pestered, and
+followed everywhere, and worshipped by a man
+like me, until you have to take him to avoid his
+persistence!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled at me frankly.  "You have no
+idea," she laughed, "how I long to say 'This is
+so sudden,' but after 'I don't know what you
+mean,' I am afraid to!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do save yourself a lot of trouble," I
+warned again, "by taking me now, Graham,
+instead of waiting until I get you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose," she said, "I suppose I might
+at well."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I shan't tell you what happened then, but in
+my haste to do something (mind I don't say
+what) I almost tumbled into Uncle Abner's
+treasure pit.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The "Jennie May" sailed home, a little later,
+without the passenger she had brought to Lone
+Palm Key.  Graham and I returned in the
+steam launch.  When I insisted that the only
+two surviving relatives of Uncle Abner be made
+one at once, Graham said&mdash;you know what she
+said, as well as I do.  She simply couldn't help
+it.  It was:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, really, this is so sudden!"
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+END
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter smcap">
+<a id="img-036"></a>
+<br>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-036.jpg" alt="C. D. Williams' Idea of the Heroine.">
+<br>
+C. D. Williams' Idea of the Heroine.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br><br></p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75653 ***</div>
+</body>
+
+</html>
+
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #75653 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75653)