“Yes,” interposed the editor, “it is all quite reasonable; and, as something germain to the subject, I can cite an interesting instance.  When, soon after the War our old Confederate naval captain bought his home on Greenville Sound and was preparing to build his residence, he had the old house which stood upon the site torn down, and, upon the carpenters coming one morning to begin the erection of the new building, they found an immense excavation right where the old house stood.  Now, that old building was in former years used by a Portuguese as an inn for the entertainment of sailors from the vessels in the port of Wilmington; and, there being certain traditions in regard to some money having been buried beneath it, it was natural to conclude that the excavation resulted from an energetic effort to find the money.  The hole was made at night, but by whom it has never been found out.  The incident was shrouded in a mystery which has never been cleared.”

We talked still further along that vein, the editor emphatically asserting his assured belief in the possibility of recovering quantities of gold from the seashore below Wilmington, and from the decaying hulks of blockade runners that rise a little here and there above the waves, where they met a disastrous check to their efforts to slip into the harbor.

As we started out again upon the street, Jamesby said, “Well, sir,—­pardon my frankness—­but I must say that I have never found your company so interesting before; and I shall be equally frank in saying that—­I have never been able yet to believe half the tales I have heard about the mysterious discovery of buried treasure.  There is something so unsubstantial about most of them.  Of course, there may be some exceptions, and—­”

“Jamesby,” I interrupted in good humor, “don’t let your frankness expire for the lack of the proper courage.  Let your speech continue during the whole run of an honest statement.  But it’s all right.  I have some indisputable proofs—­”

“Good morning!” It was young Riggins who joined us.  “I read that story of yours, sir.  It was good, I must say.  It is just like something that happened in my own personal experience.  A few months ago, I was down at Homosassa, Florida; and, while I was there, some clam diggers discovered a large chest of old Spanish coin.  They sold them to the Government for thirty thousand dollars, and have now retired from the clam business.”

That was a tale rather to the point, and Jamesby received it soberly; but I laughed out of sheer appreciation of another good yarn.

I did not see Jamesby for several days.  I knew it was his busy season; but I really wished to know how he fared.  So, I decided to look him up.  He was a happy, enthusiastic, ingenuous young fellow, and I had become quite accustomed to having his cheerful company occasionally.

I found him sitting at his desk in intense abstraction; but he soon observed me standing before him, and quickly arose with a hearty welcome, such as he alone knew how to extend.