“Come by it? What d’ye mean?”
“It’s here, hain’t it?”
“Looks that way.”
“Then,” says the man, “what for do we dig it up for Jonas P. Dunn? Why don’t we jest dig it up for ourselves?”
“Because Jonas P. won’t let us.”
“How many is there of him?”
“Jest one.”
“Sure—and there’s a lot of us. Suppose now, jest suppose, twenty of us says to ourselves that it was a heap better if we was to take this here treasure and divide it up into fifty-thousand-dollar lots—one for each of us—than it is to dig it up and hand it over to Jonas P. Dunn? Eh? What then?”
“Oho!... Ahum!... Fifty thousand!”
“And easy come by.”