o have bats in their belfries, don't it?"

That gets an uneasy squirm out of Old Hickory, but he comes right back
at him.

"Just why?" he demands.

"Why, great Scott, Ellins," goes on Megrue enthusiastic, "don't you
know that buried treasure stuff is the stalest kind of tourist bait in
use on the whole Florida coast? The hotel people have been handing
that out for the past fifty years. Wouldn't think anyone could be
still found who'd bite at it, would you? But it seems they exist.
Every once in a while a new lot of come-ons show up, with their old
charts and their nice new shovels, and go to digging. Why, I was shown
a place just north of Little Gasparilla--Cotton River, they call
it--where the banks have been dug up for miles by these simple-minded
nuts.

"Every now and then, too, they circulate that musty tale about an old
Spaniard, in Tampa or Fort Myers or somewhere, who whispers deathbed
directions about finding a chest of gold buried at the foot of a lone
palmetto on some key or other. And say, they tell me there isn't a
lone tree on this section of the coast that hasn't been dug up by the
roots. Good old human nature can't be downed, can it? You can
suppress the green-goods and gold-brick games, but folks will still go
to shoveling sand if you mention pirates to 'em. What I want is to see
'em at it once."

The harder you jolt Old Hickory, though, the steadier he gets.

"Huh!" says he, smilin' sarcastic. "An ambition such as yours ought to
be gratified. Take a good look at us, Megrue."

"Wha-a-a-at!" gasps Barney, starin' at him. "You--you don't mean
that--that--"

"Precisely," says Old Hickory. "We are the crack-brained New Yorkers
you are so anxious to see."

Well, when he recovers his breath he does his best to square himself.
He apologizes four different ways, gettin' in deeper with every turn,
until finally he edges towards the stairs and makes his escape.

"At least," remarks Old Hickory, "I suppose it is something to provide
a source of innocent merriment. I trust we are not overlooking anyone
who might wish to be amused."

Before the evenin' was over he had his answer. About eight-thirty out
comes a fast motor-boat and ties up alongside without askin' leave.
Reporters, two of 'em. They climbs up, grinnin' and amiable, specially
the fat one in the tight-fittin' Palm Beach suit. They wanted to know
when we was goin' to start digging and if we'd mind their bringin' out
a movie m