“I don’t know that he will expect to be ‘taken in,’” said Captain Williamson, somewhat coldly, “but I think that you’ll find his advice in the matter will be of help to you. You may rely upon it that the secret will be as safe with him as it will be with me.” “All right,” said Jack; “if Tom don’t care, I don’t, either.” So Mr. Winterbury was called into the cabin, and Tom told the story of the finding of the treasure all over again. “What do you think of it, Mr. Winterbury?” said Captain Williamson, when Tom had ended. “I think it’s the most extraordinary yarn that ever I heard in all my life.” “Exactly my thought. And now, if Mr. Baldwin and Mr. Granger will excuse us for a moment or two, I would like to have a few words with you outside.” Then they went out, and Jack and Tom were left alone. “It seems to me that you did rather too much, Tom,” said Jack. “I think it was as little as we could do,” said Tom. “They’ve sailed fifty miles out of their course to pick us up, without expecting so much as a red cent for it, so I think it was as little as we could do.” “Oh, all right; I’m not finding fault,” said Jack. “I don’t mean to find any fault at all; I was only giving you my notion about it. I’m satisfied.” But it was very plain, from the way in which he spoke, that he was _not_ satisfied. In a little while Captain Williamson and Mr. Winterbury came into the cabin again. Then the captain asked a number of questions about the wreck—how much of it they had already uncovered, etc., etc. “We’ve uncovered a little less than one quarter of it, I should judge,” said Tom, looking to Jack for confirmation. Jack nodded his head.