“What is that, young man?”
“Gold,” Hal answered, smiling. “A whole handkerchief full!”
“Great Scott!” exclaimed the astonished old man.
“Mr. Pemberton,” Hal said whimsically, opening the handkerchief for his delighted inspection, “that expression you just used—Great Scott!—is uttered by Americans only. Do you know that? What’s more it’s a purely Yankee term and yet you use it!”
“I wouldn’t stand for that insult, young man,” said Old Marcellus with a faint gleam of mirth in his weak blue eyes, “if it wasn’t that you’ve discovered my gold.”
“Then you admit that you’ve given praise to a Yankee by using his name?” Hal teased. “You’ve committed the unpardonable sin, Mr. Pemberton.”
“Then I have,” said the old man, biting back the smile that wanted to shine on his thin, haggard face. “And I’m not denying now that it took a snooping Yankee to find our gold—the gold that will mean so much to my grandchildren.”
“Well,” Hal laughed, “I’d rather be a snooping Yankee than....”
“Than what?” the old man promptly asked.
“Than Señor Carlo Goncalves,” Hal answered with a chuckle.