“Well, then there are other things, too,” continued the landlord, “which they handle in the same manner. One of the strangest things about this whole story is the fact that the soil in the money-hole is different from that of the rest of the island, being sand and gravel; whereas the rest of the island, as I told you, is blue clay. It’s just as if a hole was dug in the blue clay, and then filled in with sand and gravel brought from somewhere else. Well, how do you think they got over this?” Again the landlord looked inquiringly at the two buys. Again the two hoys gave it up. “Why,” said the landlord, “they get over it in the usual fashion. They say it isn’t a fact that the island is blue clay, but that there’s streaks and patches of gravel all over it, and the two men hit upon a place where the soil was sandy and gravelly. That’s the way they get over that point; and I’d like to ask any man if that’s fair; if that’s honest; if that’s decent. Yet that’s the way they talk--when they can go to the island, and see wherever fresh boles have been dug, the blue clay is turned up. But when I point out that, they say, ‘O, that’s because the holes are all dug on that one side of the island where the blue clay is.’ “Then, again, there’s the drain,” continued the landlord. “Now, if any one thing is an established foot, next to the buried money--it’s Kidd’s drain. It’s been broken into time after time. It’s flooded hole after hole. Yet, in the face of this, they say that there isn’t any drain at all; that there’s merely some loose soil on the island, or some subterranean passage, made by nature, through which the sea water passes, and that the bottom of the so-called money-hole has been connected with this. Some say, that as the island is small, the sea water trickles through the soil, in some places, all the way across. So, of course, these men, shutting their eyes obstinately to hard facts, laugh at the very idea of a drain. And that’s the sort of objections that we have to meet!” concluded the landlord, with a snort of contempt. “Is any one working on Oak Island now,” asked Bart, after a pause. “Well, no, not just now. There isn’t a soul on the island. Since the last company gave up, no one has touched the works--except, occasionally, some visitors. Everything is standing there--the pumps, the hoisting tackle, and all that. You’ll see the holes all about; and the money-hole can easily be known, for it is a hollow in the ground, shaped like a bowl, close by the largest pump, with a deep hole beside it, full of water; for, unfortunately, they struck the drain too soon, and of course the water rushed upon them.” At this point the landlord recollected some business that he had to attend to, and rising to his feet, he slowly sauntered away. IX.