“In case of your death, Professor, I suppose you are willing all the treasure should belong to us, since that was your own claim when Lovelace died?”
He grew a little pale as he answered: “Do you want to put that in the paper?”
“Yes, if you please.”
“Will you agree, on your part, to protect me from harm in all possible ways, to guard my life as completely as you do your own lives?”
“Certainly.”
“Then include it in the contract. It would be a terrible thing to die just when all this treasure is fairly in my grasp; but if I lose my life in the venture there is no one to inherit my possessions.”
As I resumed my writing Uncle Naboth remarked:
“We’ll look after you, sir, never fear. Sam only means to cover any possible mishaps, and I guess he’s right. But we’ll be satisfied with a fair division, and intend to do our duty by you if it costs us our lives to protect you.”
When the contract was ready the Professor signed it without a word of protest, and after the witnesses had attached their signatures the little man went on deck and left us alone.
“He means treachery,” remarked my father, coolly.