"He thinks we're a gang of bunco men," Mr. Daddles reflected. "I
wonder why he trusts us with his boat."

"He knows that no one would be foolish enough to steal it," said
Jimmy; "look at it!"

It was a shabby and ill-kept dory, dirty, and with half an inch of
dirty water washing about in it. But we didn't care. Almost any
boat is good enough when you are looking for buried treasure. We
set out, with Mr. Daddles and Jimmy rowing. A breeze had sprung up
and the bay was a little choppy, so we splashed and bumped along
at no great speed. Mr. Daddles did not pay much attention to the
management of his long oar, but got into a discussion with Jimmy
about what they would buy with their share of the treasure. Jimmy
said his first choice would be a sailing yacht. Next, after that,
he thought he should buy a steam-yacht. Mr. Daddles said he should
buy a piano.

"A piano! That's funny. What would you buy next?"

"A stick of dynamite."

"Dynamite! What for?"

"To blow up the piano."

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Well, you see the piano I'm going to buy belongs to a girl who
lives next door to me at home. She practises on it all day long.