“I can say nozing,” was his invariable reply. Then, to divert Dick’s mind, he would challenge him at chess, a game in which they had proved to be pretty equally matched, or he would produce the latest batch of newspapers.
The young fellow had read with great delight the announcement that his plans for the ideal city had been awarded the prize of ten thousand dollars. Still more welcome had been the warmly congratulatory note received from Merle at the hands of Pierre; for this letter, while it made no reference to the point, virtually sealed the pact between the two lovers that the money would provide for a glorious honeymoon trip to Europe. Dick had sent instructions to Munson to notify the Los Angeles syndicate in his name that the reward was to remain to the credit of the winner until he would come personally to Tejon to claim it, probably about the middle of October.
It wanted now only two days of the fateful date, the eleventh of that month. Dick had already gathered together his personal belongings ready for removal. He was pacing the grotto, when his eye chanced to fall upon the sack of gold.
“I forgot about that, Pierre, old fellow,” he remarked. “We have to divide this spoil.”
“No,” replied Pierre, with quiet determination, “it is all yours, Mr. Willoughby, honestly earned, too. I have no need for any of ze gold. I have all ze money I can ever spend during ze rest of my life.”
No amount of argument could shake the old Frenchman’s resolution.
“Then what is to be done with the sack? By jove, I’ll share it with our Hidden Treasure Syndicate. By the way, where is Jack Rover now, Pierre?”
“He is living in Buck Ashley’s old store. Buck, you know, is ze postmaster at Tejon, and has a splendid store in ze new city. But Jack Rover, he just hang about ze old place.”
“Well, Pierre, I’ve got a plan. You say it will not be until Tuesday afternoon that I leave these quarters?”
“Zat is so, and I am sorry you must still wear ze blindfold, but it will be for ze last time now.”