The wizened old man looked like he was straight out of central casting. He had fine white hair tied back in a ponytail, and his brown leathery skin threatening to crack at the creases. A short shoot of hair stuck out from his chin; a beard that had never really taken off. “Yeah. Coins.” James nodded. “Lots of people find coins. I swear there’s still millions of dollars to be had, right offen these shores.” “You think?” I frowned at James. Don’t be a smart-ass. The idea was not to draw any attention to our mission. “Yes, sir.” His voice was high pitched, and I decided he reminded me of old Ben Gunn from Treasure Island. Gunn was the pirate they left behind on the island to guard the treasure. A crazy old loon. “From Gasparilla to Bowlegs, them pirates were a burying bunch of thugs. And if it weren’t the pirates, then it were them wreckers who’d scavenge all sorts of riches off them distressed ships that ran up on the rocks.” His eyes were wide open and his animated speech told me that he had a passion for the stories.
