“Did any o’ dem Perdido coons eber sarch fur pirate treasure?” repeated Jerry. “Is dey any o’ dem dat ain’t? Say, Marse Balfah,” added Jerry confidentially, “Ah don’t want to boas’, but Ah reckon Ah hab got, pussonally, de likeliest treasure tree on de bay. On’y,” and he scratched his chin with assumed importance, “Ah ain’t nebber had no time yit to go diggin’ dar.”
“Who told you about buried treasure?” asked Bob breathlessly, grasping Jerry’s arm. “And do you know a place?”
Jerry, perceiving that he had now attracted attention, began to grow important.
“I cain’t tell dat,” he answered solemnly. “Ah swored neber to tell no libbin soul. ’Sides, Ah’s got to gib half de gold to who done tole me. Ah reckon Ah’s gwine do mah diggin’ purty soon now.”
Of course, Bob knew that Jerry was lying. But this sort of romancing delighted him. Nothing would have pleased him better than to follow the colored boy on a wild goose chase for mythical treasure.
“Jerry,” he said at last, very soberly, “I’ll give you two dollars, and give it to you now, if you’ll let me go partners in your treasure diggin’.”
The colored boy hadn’t a cent in his pocket. Bob’s two-dollar bill looked like a blanket to him. The whites of his eyes showed, and he restrained his itching hands with difficulty.
“Marse Balfah, Ah cain’t do dat. I swored not to tell fur love nur money. Dat’s a monstrous big treasure. No, sah. Ef Ah eber tells whah dat is, Ah got to be ready to drap down daid. Ah cain’t tell nothin’ ’bout mah reg’lar treasure.”
“Your regular treasure?” asked Bob. “Have you more than one treasure place?”
“More’n one?” almost sneered Jerry. “Why, Marse Bob, dat old Perdido Bay is de likeliest treasure diggin’ groun’ in all de worl’. Yas, sah. Dey’s as good places to dig fo’ pirate gold under dem old pine an’ oak trees as you’ll disciver even in Cuby, an’ Ah reckon dat’s whar de riches’ pirates all come frum.”