“Maybe they left some buried treasure there.” Sue’s tone was brimful of romance and wonderment, but Nancy answered in a matter-of-fact way:
“Maybe. Nobody knows. And years ago, too, there was a big French boat wrecked off our coast that was blown southward down the shore, and folks say there was treasure on board, money for the French provinces up in Nova Scotia and Canada. So that’s down with the fishes too, probably.”
“Oh, dear,” said Sue, ruefully, “and here I thought it might be some place where we could get it. Polly’d find a way if there was any sort of chance. I wish we could train a tommycod to go down and bring up one piece of gold at a time.”
“It isn’t in pieces. It’s gold bars, bullion, father called it.”
“Then it will have to be a tame tommycod. Just wait till I tell Polly.”
Polly’s opinion was given swiftly. Her eyes sparkled as soon as she heard the story of Smugglers’ Cove.
“Let’s take lunch, and all sail over there to-morrow and explore.”
“The Commodore’s word is law,” replied Kate, laughing. “Aye, aye, sir.”
They had found out the very first week after their arrival that a row-boat was a necessity for shore trips.
“Something like a dory or a ‘dink,’” Ted suggested. “I know my brothers, when they took the yacht out, talked about the ‘dink,’ and it was a little boat swung up handily to use when the yacht wasn’t needed.”