are full of it--if one only knew how to get at it."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Certainly. Why not? When you come to think of it, it stands to reason.
Weren't these islands for nearly three centuries the stamping ground of
all the pirates of the Spanish Main? Morgan was here. Blackbeard was
here. The very governors themselves were little better than pirates.
This room we are sitting in was the den of one of the biggest rogues of
them all--John Tinker--the governor when Bruce was here building Fort
Montague, at the east end yonder; building it against pirates, and
little else but pirates at the Government House all the time. A great
old time Tinker gave the poor fellow. You can read all about it in his
'Memoirs.' You should read them. Great stuff. There they are," pointing
to an old quarto on some well lined shelves, for John is something of a
scholar too; "borrow them some time."

"Yes, but I want to hear more about the treasure," interrupted I,
bringing him back to the point.

"Well, as I was saying, Nassau was the rendezvous for all the
cut-throats of the Caribbean Sea. Here they came in with their loot,
their doubloons and pieces of eight"; and John's eyes twinkled with
enjoyment of the rich old romantic words, as though they were old port.

"Here they squandered much of it, no doubt, but they couldn't squander
it all. Some of them were thrifty knaves too, and these, looking around
for some place of safety, would naturally think of the bush. The niggers
keep their little hoards there to this day. Fawcett, over at Andros, was
saying the other night, that he estimates that they have something like