I picked them up.
They were pieces of eight! Meanwhile, Tom had stopped jabbering, and had come nearer, looking on in awed silence.

I showed him the pieces of eight.
"I guess these are all we'll see of one of John P.Tobias's treasure, Tom," I said.

"And it looks as if these poor fellows saw as little of it as ourselves.

Can't you imagine them with it there at their feet--perhaps playing to divide it on a gamble; and, meanwhile, the other fellows stealing in through some of these rabbit runs--one with a knife, the other with a gun--and then: off with the loot and up with the sails.

Poor devils! It strikes me as a very pretty tragedy--doesn't it you ?" Suddenly--perhaps with the vibration of our voices--the hat toppled off the head of the fellow facing us, in the most weird and comical fashion--and that was too much for Tom, and he screamed and made for the exit hole.