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Updated: July 15, 2025
Think of it, sleep over it, and I am sure, sir, you will wake up in the morning resolved to place yourself in the hands of Topman and Gusher." Mr. Topman made another pause, and threw his hands over his head. "No matter whether you have the secret or not. Stick to it that you have; and refer your men to Topman and Gusher." Again Hanz shook his head, and smoked his pipe thoughtfully.
The whole thing was new and strange to him. Never in his life before had anything taken him by such surprise. He had enough to carry him through the world comfortably, and something to give his poor neighbors when they stood in need. Why should he trouble his head about Mr. Kidd. He did not know where a dollar of his money was buried. "Mine friends," said Hanz, "I likes you poth.
Then he resumed the reading. "Vell, dere wash a pig sthorm, and t' ship most goes down to t' pottom. Den she does'nt go to t' pottom. No, she no goes to t' pottom. Den mine poy, he shaves t' ship." Hanz went over the letter in this incoherent manner, and then handed it to the Dominie to read for the entertainment of the company.
Indeed, they would hint at times that it was not saying much for his family that his father had sailed with Captain Kidd, which would account for the doubloons and Mexican dollars Hanz could always bring out of a "rainy day."
Hanz would say, when accused by the settlers of aiding designing men to get their hard earnings. But all he could say and protest did not relieve him of the suspicion that he was a participant in getting up the enterprise. In short, there was the old story of his knowledge of where Kidd's treasure was buried lending color of truth to the statements made to his injury by Chapman.
The manners of the boatmen had so excited the curiosity of the inn-keeper and his guests, that no sooner had they left the inn than Bright and several others put on their hats and followed, resolved to see for themselves what was going on. Imagine, then, what must have been their surprise to find the men in the boat Bigelow Chapman and Hanz Toodleburg both with heavy overcoats on.
There was the old loom, with its harnesses, its reed, and its shuttles; the flax-wheel and the distaff, forming a quaint setting, but representing a past age and the primitive habits of the people who used them. There was Hanz and Angeline on one side. Time was writing its record in deep lines on their faces, and whitening their gray hairs.
In this way the boat was kept on up the river until past midnight, a glimpse of the land being caught here and there, an assurance to Hanz that they were not far out at sea. Indeed, Hanz began to get somewhat uneasy, and to wish himself back with Angeline in the little house.
The innocent Dutch settlers would gather at Bright's inn of an evening, smoke their pipes, mutter their discontent at the way things had turned, compare their "equivalents," and relate how much saving it had cost them to get the money thrown away on them. If it had not been for Hanz Toodleburg, they said, not a man of them would have believed a word of the story about Mr. Kidd and his money.
But the Kidd Discovery Company matter is settled, and will be a great success. No need of inventing a new religion now. Hanz has got his head full of the project. Has made all his Dutch neighbors believe there is a fortune in it for them all. We go on an expedition up the river to-morrow night, in search of the d l's sounding-rock. That's the place where Kidd buried his treasure, you see.
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