“Yes, I've got that much, an' I worked hard fur it, too. But a hundred an' fifty dollars! We must have that when it's 'arned, Dannie.”
“The hul on it?”
“Every cent. I'm Dave's pap, an' the law gives me the right to his 'arnin's, an' yours, too, until you's both twenty-one years ole. Now, Dannie, I've done a power of hard thinkin' since I've been here on this island, an' I've got some idees in my head that will make you look wild when you hear 'em. I didn't know jest how to carry 'em out afore, but I do now. These yere hundred an' fifty dollars will keep us movin' till we kin find them eighty thousand.”
“Be you goin' to look fur them agin, pap?”
“No, I hain't, but you be.”
“Not much, I ain't,” replied Dan, emphatically.
“Who's to do it, then?” demanded his father. “I can't, kase I'm afeared to go into the settlement even at night. You hain't goin' to give up the money, be you? Then what'll become of your circus-hoss, an' your painted boats, an' your fine guns what break in two in the middle?”
“I don't keer,” answered Dan, doggedly. “I wouldn't go into that tater-patch alone, arter dark; if I knowed it was chuck full of yaller gold an' silver pieces.”
The savage scowl that settled on Godfrey's face, as he listened to these words, brought Dan to his feet again in great haste. The man was fully as angry as he looked, and it is possible he might have said or done something not altogether to Dan's liking, had it not been for an unlooked-for interruption that occurred just then. Godfrey had raised his hand in the air to give emphasis to some remark he was about to make, when he was checked by a slight splashing in the water, accompanied by the measured clatter of oars, as they were moved back and forth in the row-locks. This was followed by a clear, ringing laugh, which Godfrey and his son could have recognized anywhere, and a cheery voice said:—
“I'm getting tired. It is time for me to stop and rest when I begin to catch crabs.”