“Ever find any?” says Catty.
“I don’t know,” says he.
“Do you think there is any—anywheres? Must have all been dug up years ago,” says Catty.
“Oh, I don’t know,” says Mr. Browning. “I guess a lot of it was buried, and it isn’t likely it’s all been found.”
“Gosh,” said Catty, “I wish we could get a chance to dig for some.”
“Well,” says Mr. Browning, with a grin, “you may before this cruise has ended. Never can tell what will happen when you’re on salt water.”
Catty looked at me and wrinkled his nose, as much as to say, “I told you so.”
And then—the black yacht nosed through the passage and dropped her anchor not a hundred yards from us.
CHAPTER II
Mr. Topper just pointed with the longest, boniest finger I ever saw, and I thought he was going to cry.