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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75653-0.txt b/75653-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d6c692 --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,780 @@ + +*** 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 *** diff --git a/75653-h/75653-h.htm b/75653-h/75653-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dd2e713 --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/75653-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1513 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The treasure on the beach, +by Street & Finney +</title> + +<style> + +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 1.5em ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.capcenter { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + font-weight: normal; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-indent: 0%; + text-align: center } + +img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</style> + +</head> + +<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—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—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:—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. +</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 +& 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:—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. +</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> + 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 & Blackmar's +letter caught my eye: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="letter"> +——The only other surviving relative of +Abner Barker, namely Graham Stewart, +of Brooklyn, N.Y.—— +</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—<i>perhaps</i> 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 <i>was</i> on the +train. I made a mental inventory of my +fellow-passengers. Was <i>he</i> Graham—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—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—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! +</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—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—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—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—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. +</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—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"—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—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——" +</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—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! +</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——!" +</p> + +<p> +"Unless——?" +</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—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. +</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—when you <i>don't</i> +laugh, too, of course—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—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—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—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—really——" she began. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, really!" I exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +"I assure you," she faltered; "I assure you, +I don't know—I don't know what you——" +</p> + +<p> +"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 <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——" +</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—to help +you dig. But <i>I</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!" +</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—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—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> + + diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-006.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7186db --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-006.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-010.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..96ad7be --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-010.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-014.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..54cf453 --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-014.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-032.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-032.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..418efd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-032.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-036.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-036.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7da4c80 --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-036.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c18b9fa --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-cover.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-front.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bd67eb --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/75653-h/images/img-title.jpg b/75653-h/images/img-title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..82ce3fa --- /dev/null +++ b/75653-h/images/img-title.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..109f2cf --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #75653 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75653) |
