Drever contended
were worth more than their mere weight in silver. Meanwhile, the
schoolmaster, anxious to keep the collection, as he said, intacto,
for preservation in some museum, still held possession of the
antiquities, and was nightly burning much oil in his absorbed study
of them.
Since Tom Kinlay had left the school Mr. Drever had not seen him.
But, betimes, a message was sent by Thora to intimate to Tom that
we others had given our parts of the viking's treasure into his
charge, and advising that Tom should send in the remainder without
delay. But Tom, who now owed no direct duty to the dominie,
resolutely refused to give up his share of the treasure.
On a windy Saturday morning--a week after the death of my poor
dog--I was loitering about the quays in the port, when I was
attracted towards a little crowd that had gathered round an old
capstan. The crowd consisted of several sailors and fishermen, with
a sprinkling of townsfolk, who were evidently much interested in
something that was going on in their midst.
I walked towards them and elbowed my way in beside old Davie Flett,
the skipper of a coasting schooner, with whom I was slightly
acquainted.
"What's all the stir, Mr. Flett?" I asked.
"Och, it's just an auld Jew doing some business," he replied; and I
pressed my way further into the crowd.
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