"Something like that," admits Auntie, squarin' her jaw. "Why not, Mr. Ellins?"
"Why, Auntie!" gasps Vee.
"Verona!" says Auntie, shootin' over a reprovin' look.
"But see here," protests Old Hickory. "I was arranging with this man to fit out a treasure-hunting expedition. He had made a verbal contract with me. Just because you over-heard my plans, you had no right to take advantage. You can't do that sort of thing, you know."
"Oh, can't I?" sneers Auntie, lookin' him straight in the eye. "But I have, you see."
And that's one of the few times I ever saw Old Hickory Ellins squirm at a come-back. He pinks up some, too; but he keeps a grip on his temper.
"Then you—you intend financing this somewhat doubtful enterprise?" he asks. "A man you know nothing about, too. Suppose he never comes back?"
"I shall go along myself," says Auntie.
"You?" says Old Hickory. "To dig for buried treasure!"
"I have always wanted to do something of the kind," says Auntie. "True, I may not look like that sort of a person, and I suppose that I do lead rather a dull, commonplace existence. Not from choice, however. Once I was ship-wrecked in the Mediterranean, and I found it a thrilling experience. Also I once spent nearly a week on a snow-bound train in the Rockies; I would not have missed that for anything. And if Captain Killam can lead me to genuine adventures, I am going to follow. So there you have it! All you saw in his story, I presume, was a chance to add to your millions. The romance of the thing, the mystery of that forgotten little island with its long hidden pirate hoard, never appealed to you in the least."