"A million and a half dollars. What ho!"
Then I, happening to cast my eye through the open door, caught sight of a face gazing through the ironwork of the outer office with a fixed and glittering expression, a face anything but prepossessing, the face of a half-breed, deeply pock-marked, with a coarse hook nose, and evil-looking eyes, unnaturally close together. He looked for all the world like a turkey buzzard, eagerly hanging over offal, and it was evident from his expression, that he had not missed a word of the reading.
"There is some one in the outer office," I said, and John rose and went out.
"Good morning, Mr. Saunders," said an unpleasantly soft and cringing voice.
"Good morning," said John, somewhat grumpily, "what is it you want?"
It was some detail of account, which, being despatched, the man shuffled off, with evident reluctance, casting a long inquisitive look at us seated at the desk, and John, taking up the manuscript once more resumed:
" ... a sum of one million and one half dollars—buried at a cay known as Dead Men's Shoes, near Nassau, in the Bahama Islands."
"'Dead Men's Shoes!' I don't know any such place, do you?" interrupted Charlie.
"No, I don't—but, never mind, let's read it through first and discuss it afterwards," and John went on:
"Buried at a cay known as Dead Men's Shoes, near Nassau, in the Bahama Islands; about fifty feet (50 ft.) south of this Dead Men's Shoes is a rock, on which we cut the form of a compass. And twenty feet (20 ft.) East from the cay is another rock on which we cut a cross (X). Under this rock it is buried four feet (4 ft.) deep.