I thought he was too stylish for you." He turned to Daughtry.
"Naturally, the least said ashore about us the better." "That's all right, sir.

I can keep my mouth shut, though I might as well tell you there's some pretty tales about you drifting around the beach right now." "The object of our expedition ?" the Jew queried quickly.
Daughtry nodded.
"Is that why you want to come ?" was demanded equally quickly.
Daughtry shook his head.
"As long as you give me my beer each day, sir, I ain't goin' to be interested in your treasure-huntin'.

It ain't no new tale to me.

The South Seas is populous with treasure-hunters--" Almost could Daughtry have sworn that he had seen a flash of anxiety break through the dream- films that bleared the Ancient Mariner's eyes.

"And I must say, sir," he went on easily, though saying what he would not have said had it not been for what he was almost certain he sensed of the ancient's anxiousness, "that the South Seas is just naturally lousy with buried treasure.
There's Keeling-Cocos, millions 'n' millions of it, pounds sterling, I mean, waiting for the lucky one with the right steer." This time Daughtry could have sworn to having sensed a change toward relief in the Ancient Mariner, whose eyes were again filmy with dreams.
"But I ain't interested in treasure, sir," Daughtry concluded.