“What became of the other son?”
“He put up a fight an’ they shot him. Died in the jail, I heard. Big Verny was tried and sent to prison. He died too, after.”
“Do you really think he buried anything on the island?” asked Bee.
“Big Verny? Sure he did, mate, an’ some day it’ll be found. It’s here somewhere.” He looked about him speculatively. “Maybe you’ll strike it yourself. Nobody knows where he put it. Some says he buried it near the cabin an’ some says he buried it in the sand. There’s no way o’ knowin’. I used to dig myself years ago when I was younger; blistered my hands many’s the time. Why, I’ve stuck a shovel, one time or another, in most every foot o’ this old hill! Never found any gold, though; ’ceptin’ this, and it be silver.”
He dug a gnarled hand into a pocket of his trousers and brought up a few coins from amongst which he selected a worn one. He flipped it across to Jack.
“What is it?” asked Jack as he examined it.
“A English shillin’. I dug it up somewhere near here; I forget just where, now.”
Bee and Hal examined the coin in turn. It was worn almost smooth, but sharp eyes could still detect the stamping. Bee was eager and excited.
“What have I told you fellows?” he demanded. “If this—gentleman found this here, why, there must be more of them!”
“That’s only silver,” said the man. “There’s gold here too; doubloons, likely, and solid bars of it. An’ jewels, too, most likely. Big Verny caught a lot o’ things in his nets!”