“Rather queer!—I’ve heard those same words before, in this connection.”
“Community of minds.”
“Is it a quotation?” he asked.
“Possibly—though I don’t recall it. Suppose you are attacked and tortured till you reveal where you’ve hidden the jewels?” she insisted.
“I cannot suppose them so unreasonable!” he laughed, again. “However, I put Moses on guard—with a big revolver and orders to fire at anyone molesting the house. If we hear a fusillade we’ll know it’s he shooting up the neighborhood.”
“Then the same idea did suggest itself to you!”
“Only to the extent of searching for the jewels—I regarded that as vaguely possible, but there isn’t the slightest danger of any one being tortured.”
“You know best, I suppose,” she said—“but you’ve had your warning—and pirate’s gold breeds pirate’s ways. You’ve given up all hope of finding the treasure—abandoned jewels worth—how many dollars?”
“Possibly half a million,” he filled in.
“Without a further search? Oh! Mr. Croyden!”