"There is the dragon that guards this treasure," said Jim, pointing to the river, "and it is certainly a terrible one."
"How much is it all worth?" asked the calculating Tom.
"How can I tell?" replied Juarez. "Many men have sold their lives for it. How much is a man worth, eh? Count it that way. The many strange jewels, three big handfuls, are thousands and thousands of money, besides the gold. The box itself is a richness—beaten gold with gems all over it, so they say."
Tom stood with his mouth open and his eyes shining. Jim laughed at him.
"I bet you will make a regular old shylock when you grow up. You are money hungry like all those eastern grubs. I tell you now that you and Jo only have a third of our share between you, as you happen to be twins. You see, I'm the oldest, therefore I get two-thirds."
I grinned, because I knew that Jim cared as little for money as it was possible to. In fact, he was entirely indifferent to it. Tom should have known this. But money was, with him, too sacred and serious a matter to be taken lightly.
He grew white with anger, and picking up a stick made for Jim to strike him. Juarez stepped between them.
"You excite, hot under the collar. You sit down."
Tom did so suddenly, and with emphasis under Juarez guiding hand.
"Now you give me that stick?" Tom did so and Juarez tossed it ashore. That was all. Jim said nothing and paid no attention to Tom's attack.