“You are perfectly right to do so,” said Captain Williamson. “Sit down, if you please.”
Then the two sat down again, and Tom began his story. Captain Williamson did not say a word to interrupt him, but every now and then he looked sharply from Tom to Jack, and from Jack back again to Tom. He sat with his elbows on the arms of his chair, and the tips of his fingers just touching each other; but he did not move a muscle, excepting as he turned his head when he looked first at one, and then at the other.
At last Tom had made an end of the story. Captain Williamson did not move for a second or two, but he sat just as he had been doing all along. Then he drew a deep breath, and arose from his chair. He took a turn or two up and down the cabin; then he stopped suddenly in front of Tom and Jack.
“This is an extraordinary—a most extraordinary tale,” said he. “I never heard the like in all my life. It’s like a tale in a romance, and I can scarcely believe that I have heard aright. That you should find a treasure on this—”
Here he stopped abruptly and looked sharply from one to the other. “Surely, there can be nothing false and underhand in all this,” he said.
“I suppose the story does sound strange to you,” said Tom. “I reckon that it’s because we’re so used to it that it don’t seem as though it ought to be strange. It’s the truth, though, captain. There wouldn’t be any use in our telling you a lie, for you can easily prove the truth of it for yourself.”
“True, true,” said he, and then he began walking up and down the cabin again. “What do you intend to do about the matter now?” said he, stopping for a moment, and turning to the others.
Tom and Jack looked at one another.
“I’ll leave the whole thing to you, Tom,” said Jack. “It was you who found the money—at least, it was you that found out where it was. I suppose it ought all to belong to you, by rights.”
“That’s all nonsense, Jack,” said Tom. “It was you who found it first; but even if you hadn’t, we’re mates, and it’s share and share alike between us.”