I felt my muscles aching and the sweat run from my neck and
shoulders as I drove my pick into the chest of gold.
"I'll go with you!" I said. We shook hands on it. "When do we
start?" I asked.
"Now!" said Edgar. I thought he wished to test me; he had touched
upon one of my pet vanities.
"You can't do that with me!" I said. "My bags are packed and ready
for any place in the wide world, except the cold places. I can
start this minute. Where is it, the Gold Coast, the Ivory Coast,
the Spanish Main----"
Edgar frowned inscrutably. "Have you an empty suit-case?" he asked.
"Why EMPTY?" I demanded.
"To carry the treasure," said Edgar. "I left mine in the hall. We
will need two."
"And your trunks?" I said.
"There aren't going to be any trunks," said Edgar. From his pocket
he had taken a folder of the New Jersey Central Railroad. "If we
hurry," he exclaimed, " we can catch the ten-thirty express, and
return to New York in time for dinner."
"And what about the treasure?" I roared.
"We'll' bring it with us," said Edgar.
I asked for information. I demanded confidences. Edgar refused
both. I insisted that I might be allowed at least to carry my
automatic pistol. "Suppose some one tries to take the treasure from
us?" I pointed out.
"No one," said Edgar severely, "would be such an ass as to imagine
we are carrying buried treasure in a suit-case. He will think it
contains pajamas."
"For local color, then," I begged, "I want to say in my story that
I went heavily armed.
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