But Jerry shook his head.
“Mah relation pirate he done make me swear on his razor sword Ah ain’t gwine to tell no one ’bout dat place ’till Ah gets mah hands on de box. No, sah, no one. Ah done sweared it on de sword. If Ah breave it, dat ole pirate man say he gwine come an’ cut off mah haid wif de sword.”
“Oh, I see,” said Bob. “Well, I wish you luck, Jerry.”
For a moment, Jerry was silent. Then, scratching his woolly head, he said:
“Mistah Bob, Ah cain’t tell ’bout de big trees whar dat box is buried. But Ah ain’t gwine dig up dat box when de moon’s full—like Ah’s instructed—all by mahsef. Ah’s got de directions all wrote down, jes’ lak de ole pirate done told ’em to me, whisperin’ an’ a shakin’ his big sword ’at’s got blood on it. Ah wants a partner—mebbe two or three so we don’t take no resk.”
The diplomatic Jerry paused, while Bob could hardly conceal his amusement. At last, Bob said, half regretfully:
“I’m sorry, Jerry, that the treasure isn’t over on Anclote Island or near by. Then we could all be partners—”
“Das whar it is,” broke in Jerry. “Ah reckon Ah done got to pay my way over dar on de railroad cahs.”
Without laughing, Bob said:
“Jerry, if you won’t take any one else as a partner, I’ll see that you are hired to go to Anclote Island on the Three Sisters. Then you and I will sneak out some night and dig up the Black Pirate’s treasure.”