diff options
Diffstat (limited to '75653-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 75653-0.txt | 780 |
1 files changed, 780 insertions, 0 deletions
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 *** |