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Ford, Sewell, 1868-1946

"Wilt Thou Torchy"

"
Well, no need goin' into details, but that's how Vee and me happened to
get counted in as reg'lar treasure hunters, to share and share alike.
We was elected right on the spot.
"And now," says Old Hickory, grabbin' up a spade from the bottom of the
boat, "now we--"
"Now we will go back to the yacht and get some sleep," announces
Auntie. "I've had treasure hunting enough for one night. So have you,
Matthew Ellins, if you only knew it."
Old Hickory shrugs his shoulders. He drops the spade. Then he lets go
of a yawn.
"Oh, well!" says he. "If that's the way you feel about it."
"What!" says Vee. "Go another whole day without knowing whether--"
"Certainly," cuts in Auntie. "I'm so sleepy I couldn't tell a doubloon
from a doughnut. Ho-ho-hum! Let's be getting back."
It wasn't much after six when we made the yacht, but the whole crew
seems to be up and stirrin' around. As we comes alongside they sort of
groups themselves into a gawp committee forward, and I caught them
passin' the smile and nudge to each other. The two sailors that mans
the landin' stairs are on the broad grin. It's well for them that
neither Auntie nor Old Hickory seems to notice. I did, though, and
trails behind the others gettin' out.
"What's all the comedy for?" I demands.


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