My Buried Treasure | Page 7

jolt of the
surface cars, I asked humbly:
"Is that ALL I get?"
"Why should you expect any more?" demanded Edgar. "It isn't YOUR
treasure. You wouldn't expect me to make you a present of an interest
in my mills; why should you get a share of my treasure?" He gazed at
me reproachfully. "I thought you'd be pleased," he said. " It must be
hard to think of things to write about, and I'm giving you a subject for
nothing. I thought," he remonstrated, "you'd jump at the chance. It isn't
every day a man can dig for buried treasure."
"That's all right," I said. "Perhaps I appreciate that quite as well as you
do. But my time has a certain small value, and I can't leave my work
just for excitement. We may be weeks, months---- How long do you
think we----"
Behind his eye-glasses Edgar winked reprovingly.

"That is a leading question," he said. "I will pay all your legitimate
expenses--transportation, food, lodging. It won't cost you a cent. And
you write the story--with my name left out," he added hastily; "it would
hurt my standing in the trade," he explained-- "and get paid for it."
I saw a sea voyage at Edgar's expense. I saw palm leaves, coral reefs. I
felt my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and shoulders
as I drove my pick into the chest of gold.
"I'll go with you!" I said. We shook hands on it. "When do we start?" I
asked.
"Now!" said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched
upon one of my pet vanities.
"You can't do that with me!" I said. "My bags are packed and ready for
any place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can start this
minute. Where is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast, the Spanish
Main----"
Edgar frowned inscrutably. "Have you an empty suit-case?" he asked.
"Why EMPTY?" I demanded.
"To carry the treasure," said Edgar. "I left mine in the hall. We will
need two."
"And your trunks?" I said.
"There aren't going to be any trunks," said Edgar. From his pocket he
had taken a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. "If we hurry," he
exclaimed, " we can catch the ten-thirty express, and return to New
York in time for dinner."
"And what about the treasure?" I roared.
"We'll' bring it with us," said Edgar.
I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused both. I

insisted that I might be allowed at least to carry my automatic pistol.
"Suppose some one tries to take the treasure from us?" I pointed out.
"No one," said Edgar severely, "would be such an ass as to imagine we
are carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it contains
pajamas."
"For local color, then," I begged, "I want to say in my story that I went
heavily armed."
"Say it, then," snapped Edgar. "But you can't DO it! Not with me, you
can't! How do I know you mightn't----" He shook his head warily.
It was a day in early October, the haze of Indian summer was in the air,
and as we crossed the North River by the Twenty- third Street Ferry the
sun flashed upon the white clouds overhead and the tumbling waters
below. On each side of us great vessels with the Blue Peter at the fore
lay at the wharfs ready to cast off, or were already nosing their way
down the channel toward strange and beautiful ports. Lamport and Holt
were rolling down to Rio; the Royal Mail's MAGDALENA, no longer
"white and gold," was off to Kingston, where once seven pirates swung
in chains; the CLYDE was on her way to Hayti where the buccaneers
came from; the MORRO CASTLE was bound for Havana, which
Morgan, king of all the pirates, had once made his own; and the RED D
was steaming to Porto Cabello where Sir Francis Drake, as big a
buccaneer as any of them, lies entombed in her harbor. And I was
setting forth on a buried-treasure expedition on a snub-nosed, flat-
bellied, fresh-water ferry-boat, bound for Jersey City! No one will ever
know my sense of humiliation. And, when the Italian boy insulted my
immaculate tan shoes by pointing at them and saying, "Shine?" I could
have slain him. Fancy digging for buried treasure in freshly varnished
boots! But Edgar did not mind. To him there was nothing lacking; it
was just as it should be. He was deeply engrossed in calculating how
many offices were for rent in the Singer Building!
When we reached the other side, he refused to answer any of my eager
questions. He would not let me know even for what place on the line