My Buried Treasure. Richard Harding Davis

It's as plain as a laundry bill. It says," he paused apprehensively, and then continued with caution, "it says at such and such a place there is a something. So many somethings from that something are three what-you-may-call-'ems, and in the centre of these three what-you-may-call-'ems is buried the treasure. It's as plain as that!"

      "Even with the few details you have let escape you," I said, "I could find THAT spot in my sleep."

      "I don't think you could," said Edgar uncomfortably; but I could see that he had mentally warned himself to be less communicative. "And," he went on, "I am willing to lead you to it, if you subscribe to certain conditions."

      Edgar's insulting caution had ruffled my spirit.

      "Why do you think you can trust ME?" I asked haughtily. And then, remembering my share of the million dollars, I added in haste, "I accept the conditions."

      "Of course, as you say, one has got to take SOME risk," Edgar continued; "but I feel sure," he said, regarding me doubtfully, "you would not stoop to open robbery." I thanked him.

      "Well, until one is tempted," said Edgar, "one never knows WHAT he might do. And I've simply GOT to have one other man, and I picked on you because I thought you could write about it."

      "I see," I said, "I am to act as the historian of the expedition."

      "That will be arranged later," said Edgar. "What I chiefly want you for is to dig. Can you dig?" he asked eagerly. I told him I could; but that I would rather do almost anything else.