"No? What for you want him not to be open?"
"It is not mine."
"Not your money? Dat is bad!"
"I wish it were mine, certainly, uncle; but, as it is not, I mean to take good care of it for the owner."
"Den I sall seal up der bag for you," replied the watch-maker, taking a piece of red tape from one of his drawers, which he wound tightly over the original string of the bag.
Then, lighting the spirit-lamp which he used with his blow-pipe, he melted a large mass of sealing-wax upon the knot of the red tape, and pressed upon it the great seal hanging from his watch-chain. Herr Schlager was a simple-minded man, and doubtless he believed that the seal was a perfect protection to the contents of the bag. Possibly he thought that no mortal man would dare to "cut the red-tape." Leopold was less superstitious in regard to the sanctity of a seal; and he relied more upon the protective power of the iron safe than upon that of the tape or seal. His uncle lodged in a little room in the rear of his shop for the better security of his goods; and the young man felt that the treasure would be safe in the watch-maker's strong-box. Herr Schlager dropped the bag into one of the drawers of the safe.
"Now, where you was get him?" demanded the Teuton, as he closed the iron door.
"I dug it out of the sand on the beach at High Rock, uncle," replied Leopold.
"Den it pelongs to you, mine poy."
"Not at all, uncle; at least, not yet a while."