"What do you suppose he's going to do with that money?" I wondered.
"I know," said Jimmy Toppan, "he's going to hurry off and put it in the bank, before Ike Flanders tries to get it away from him."
"No," said Mr. Daddles, "he's going to bury it in his garden." "First," remarked Ed Mason, "he'll take it into the house and test it with acid, to see if it's genuine."
"He thinks we're a gang of bunco men," Mr. Daddles reflected. "I wonder why he trusts us with his boat."
"He knows that no one would be foolish enough to steal it," said
Jimmy; "look at it!"
It was a shabby and ill-kept dory, dirty, and with half an inch of dirty water washing about in it. But we didn't care. Almost any boat is good enough when you are looking for buried treasure. We set out, with Mr. Daddles and Jimmy rowing. A breeze had sprung up and the bay was a little choppy, so we splashed and bumped along at no great speed. Mr. Daddles did not pay much attention to the management of his long oar, but got into a discussion with Jimmy about what they would buy with their share of the treasure. Jimmy said his first choice would be a sailing yacht. Next, after that, he thought he should buy a steam-yacht. Mr. Daddles said he should buy a piano.
"A piano! That's funny. What would you buy next?"
"A stick of dynamite."
"Dynamite! What for?"
"To blow up the piano."