“Here I go,” said Fred, beginning to write at once. “You tell me what to do when I come to those numbers.”
Grant prompted him and the whole code of numbers was soon translated into letters, reading as follows in its final form:
t - a - k - e - a - c - o - u - r - s - e - d - u - e - n - o - r - t - h - o - n - e - h - u - n - d - r - e - d - f - e - e - t - f - r - o - m - t - h - e - s - o - u - t - h - e - r - n - e - x - t - r - e - m - i - t - y - o - f - s - h - a - r - k - r - o - c - k - t - h - e - n - e - a - s - t - f - i - f - t - y - f - e - e - t - a - n - d - n - o - r - t - h - b - y - e - a - s - t - t - h - i - r - t - y - t - h - r - e - e - d - i - g.
“There it is,” exclaimed Fred when he had finished writing.
“What does it say?” demanded George. “It’s certainly jumbled up.”
“We’ll start at the beginning,” said Grant eagerly, “and spell out the letters and see if we can’t make words out of them.”
“Read them out loud,” suggested Fred, “and go slow.”
“T,” began Grant, “that doesn’t spell anything. T-a; T-a-k; T-a-k-e.”
“Take,” exclaimed George. “There’s a word.”
“Good,” cried John. “Go ahead from there, Grant.”
“A,” said Grant.
“That’s a word,” cried Fred. “We’ve got ‘take a,’ so far.”
“C,” said Grant. “C-o; C-o-u; C-o-u-r.”
“That means ‘heart’ in French,” exclaimed George. “The next three letters, s-e-d, mean ‘but’ in French. Do you suppose that could be right?”
“It doesn’t make sense that way,” said John. ‘Take a heart but.’ What does that mean?“
“Perhaps every word doesn’t count,” George suggested.
“Look here,” exclaimed Grant. “What does c-o-u-r-s-e spell?”
“Course, of course,” said John laughingly.
“Certainly it does,” said Grant. “That’s the word we want. So far we have three; ‘take a course.’ Doesn’t that sound more like it to you fellows than some sort of French that George is trying to bring into it?”
“Absolutely,” said Fred with great conviction. “‘Take a course’ is right, and the next word is d-u-e, due.”
“Correct,” cried Grant. “Why, this is easy. Just see if I can’t read the whole thing right off now.”
“Try it anyway,” said John. “Take it slow.”
Grant studied the letters in front of him for some moments in silence. “I’ve got it,” he exclaimed at length. “Just listen to this,” and he began to read slowly, “‘Take a course due north one hundred feet from the south–’” he paused.
“From the southern, isn’t it?” queried John.
“That’s it. ‘Take a course due north one hundred feet from the southern extremity of shark rock, then east fifty feet and north by east thirty-three dig.’”
“Correct,” cried John, “only you ought to have read the last of it like this: ‘and north by east thirty-three. Dig!” and he shouted the final word with all his might.
“We’re going to find the gold, we’re going to find the gold!” shouted Fred, borrowing John’s chant, and a moment later every one in the little party had joined hands and was dancing joyously about singing and laughing and shouting. Finally they stopped from sheer exhaustion.
“Read dat again, will yo’?” demanded Sam eagerly.
“Read it, Grant,” shouted George. “We’re going to find the gold, we’re going to find the gold!”
“If you’ll keep quiet a minute I’ll read it,” said Grant, and while every one listened with rapt attention he read again the words it had taken them so many days and weeks to discover. “‘Take a course due north one hundred feet from the southern extremity of shark rock, then east fifty feet and north by east thirty-three. Dig.’”
“Say, I just happened to think,” exclaimed Fred in dismay. “How are we going to get those directions right? How can we tell north from south except in a general sort of way?”
“Fred,” said George, pretending to be greatly disappointed in his comrade, “how long will it take you to learn that whenever anything is needed, I am the one who always has it? Don’t you know that I always wear a compass and don’t you remember Captain Dodge on board theJosephinecomplimenting me on the fact one time? You are a great trial to me, Fred,” and George shook his head sorrowfully.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got it anyway,” said Fred shortly. “I still don’t see, though, how we are going to measure distances.”
“That will be hard,” admitted Grant. “How long are your feet, String?”
“A yard and a half,” said George readily, and immediately ducked to escape a blow aimed in his direction by the owner of the feet in question.
“Ten inches,” replied John. “That is, my shoes are just exactly that long, for I remember measuring them in the gymnasium just before I left home. They’re in the cave if you want them.”
“Not now,” said Grant. “It’s too late to do anything to-day, anyway, and it’ll be dark in a little while. If your shoes are exactly ten inches long though, we can measure with them and figure out the distance easy enough.”
“Are you sure that the shark rock the code speaks of is the one on the end of the island here?” exclaimed Fred.
“Sho’ it am,” said Sam. “Dey nevah was two rocks lak dat one.”
“I guess that’s right,” agreed Fred. “It must be the one.”
“Certainly it is,” said John. “We wouldn’t have found two codes on this island unless the spot they referred to was here too.”
“Oh, that’s the rock all right,” said Grant confidently. “I wish we could start right down there now, but I suppose it would be foolish.”
“I think we’ve done enough for one day anyhow,” said John. “As long as we have solved the code we can’t have much to complain of for one day’s work.”
“You haven’t told us how you did it yet,” said George.
“Haven’t you found out for yourself? My, but you’re dull.”
“Perhaps I am,” admitted George. “I don’t see it though.”
“Nor I,” added Fred. “Tell us how you did it.”
“How many letters are there in the alphabet?” asked Grant.
“Twenty-six,” said George.
“What’s the first letter?”
“A.”
“What’s the second?”
“B.”
“And the third?”
“C.”
“What’s the twenty-sixth?”
“Z.”
“You know your alphabet anyway,” laughed Grant. “Now this is how the code works;ais the first letter so we call it one,bis the second so we call that two, and so on all the way through. For instance, the letterswould be number nineteen, andtwould be twenty. Do you see the idea?”
“Yes, I see that,” said George. “Explain the rest.”
“Why, it’s just this. Wherever number one came we put the lettera. If number thirteen appeared we’d substitute the thirteenth letter in the alphabet in its place.”
“Which would bem,” said George after a little calculation on his fingers.
“That’s right,” exclaimed Grant. “Now do you see how it was done?”
“Of course. Isn’t that simple?”
“It took us long enough to find it out though,” said John.
“Well, I should say so,” exclaimed George. “Weren’t we stupid?”
“I don’t know,” said Grant. “The simplest things are often the hardest to explain. Of course when you get the key the rest is easy enough.”
“According to this code then,” said Fred, “one, two, three would bea, b, c. Is that right?”
“Yes,” said Grant, “and twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-six would bex, y, z.”
“I see,” exclaimed Fred. “You couldn’t have a number higher than twenty-six in this code then, could you?”
“Of course not. There are only that many letters in the alphabet, you see.”
“How did you ever happen to think of it, Grant?”
“Well, I guess I’d thought of about everything else possible,” laughed Grant. “When I heard Pop talking about teaching his parrot the alphabet and somebody said there were twenty-six letters in it, I got an idea all of a sudden. I knew those figures backwards and forwards and I remembered that twenty-five was the highest number in it. That would mean that twenty-six stood for the letter z, but that is so uncommon anyway that it didn’t seem strange that it should be missing. It was a new idea and it struck me right away as being a good one.”
“It certainly was,” exclaimed George. “We ought to give you a medal, Grant.”
“Wouldn’t a gold piece do?” laughed Fred.
“It sho’ would suit me,” grinned Sam. “Ah does want one ob dem dere diamon’ ho’seshoes, dough.”
“Well, when you get enough gold pieces you can buy one,” said Grant. “Don’t you think your friends back home would be jealous of you though?” and he winked slyly at his companions.
“Ah suttinly does hope so,” exclaimed Sam heartily. “Dey’s a lot of good fo’ nothin’ no ’count niggers anyhow.”
“Would you work any more if you had a lot of money?” asked George.
“Work!” exclaimed Sam disdainfully. “Hello, dere, foolish! What yo’ think Ah am anyhow? To’ must think Ah’m plumb crazy,” and Sam looked pityingly at George. “Ob co’se Ah wouldn’t nebber lif’ mah han’ agin.”
“Don’t you think you’d get tired of doing nothing?” laughed George.
“Jes’ lemme try it onct,” and Sam snorted at the idea of any one being so silly as to work unless he was compelled to do so.
“Well, I hope you do get rich, Sam,” exclaimed John, “and I hope all the rest of us do too.”
“Dis am de place fo’ it,” said Sam confidently. “Jes’ think how many people would gib dere eyes jes’ to fin’ dis yere island.”
“Finding the island wouldn’t do them much good unless they knew where to look after they got here,” said Grant.
“But we do know,” exclaimed Fred. “All we have to do now is to make a few measurements and do a little digging.”
“It may be a good deal of digging,” said Grant.
“We don’t know how deep the stuff is buried, you know.”
“And we don’t care,” said George. “I’d dig all the way to China to get that stuff if it was necessary.”
“I wish we had some tools,” sighed John. “It may be slow work.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said George. “It’s all sand down around that end of the island and we can use sticks and anything we can get hold of.”
“An’ mah knife,” added Sam eagerly.
“Yes,” agreed Grant. “That knife will help a lot.”
“We can get Snip to use his beak on the tough spots,” suggested Fred.
“Yes,” laughed George. “By the way he dug into my hand he ought to be able to tear holes in the ground without any trouble at all.”
“Let’s get to sleep,” said Grant, “and at the crack of dawn to-morrow we’ll be down at the old shark rock with our compass and String’s shoe ready to make ourselves wealthy.”
It was an excited little party that turned in presently and dreamed of gold and treasure unheard of all the rest of the warm tropical night.
The sun had scarcely made its appearance above the horizon the following day when the inmates of the cave were astir.
“Get up everybody,” shouted Grant, the first to arise. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Yon won’t have to call me twice,” exclaimed John, hastily rising to his feet. “It seems to me I’ve been awake half the night anyway, just waiting for that old sun to come out and give us enough light to see.”
“Suppose it had been a cloudy day and the sun hadn’t come out, String,” said George, who had now joined the others. “I suppose you’d have had to stay in bed all day. My, that would have been tough luck.”
“You’re pretty funny for so early in the morning,” said John shortly. “After you’ve broken your back digging for a couple of hours maybe you won’t feel quite so smart.”
“My back will never get tired digging for gold,” laughed George. “I could keep at it for a week and not even feel it.”
“An’ me too,” chimed in Sam. “Ah is pow’ful strong when it come to dat kind ob diggin’.”
“Well, let’s get some breakfast and then give all these strong men a chance,” laughed Fred.
“Aren’t you going swimming first?” demanded George.
“I’m going, I know that,” said John enthusiastically. “I don’t intend to miss any swims in the mornings if I can help it.”
“How about sharks?” queried Grant. “I should think you’d have had just about all the swimming you’d want, String.”
“No, indeed,” laughed John. “I can tell you one thing, though, and that is that I intend to stick awfully close to shore.”
“You won’t be any closer than I will,” exclaimed George seriously. “I’ll leave the middle of the ocean to the fish and not dispute it with them at all.”
“Who’s coming?” called George, who had already started. It seemed that every one was, for a moment later the other four members of the little family were close behind George. All were in excellent spirits and an air of suppressed excitement seemed to pervade the atmosphere around about them. When any one spoke it was in a tense tone and every laugh sounded somewhat nervous. Eyes sparkled eagerly and breath came a trifle faster when the thought of the buried gold arose in any one’s mind.
“Diamond horseshoes, Sam!” exclaimed John, slapping the grinning negro heartily on the back. “Diamond horseshoes right after breakfast.”
“‘Deed Ah hopes so,” said Sam. “Ah sho’ could use one ob dem.”
“Not here, though,” laughed Grant. “Pretty soon we shan’t have anything to wear if our clothes get very much more ragged.”
“That’s right, Sam,” said John. “You couldn’t wear your diamond horseshoe on this island.”
“Does yo’ really think dey is any ob dem in dat chest?” asked Sam very seriously and very eagerly.
“I doubt it,” laughed John. “I don’t believe they wore such things in the days when this treasure was buried.”
“Dat’s all right dough,” said Sam cheerfully. “As yo’ say Ah wouldn’t hab no use fo’ one on dis yere island. All Ah wants am gold enough to buy one when Ah gets back to Richmon’. Dat’s when Ah wants it, an’, golly, say won’t dem niggers be jealous.” He laughed aloud as he usually did at the thought, for it was a most pleasing prospect to him. He was scarcely more than a child in mind; his great, and seemingly his supreme, desire to make his friends jealous showed this.
“Maybe we’ll find some earrings,” suggested Fred. “We can wear those, and if we find bracelets and gold arm-bands and anklets and things like that we can put them all on and look like a bunch of cannibals.”
“You’ve certainly got a great,–” George began sarcastically, when a cry from Grant suddenly interrupted him. Grant had gained somewhat on the remainder of the band and was down near the shore when he called.
“What’s the matter with him?” exclaimed John in a puzzled manner. “What does he see and what’s he running after?”
“Let’s go find out,” cried Fred eagerly.
“Come on everybody! Hurry up!” called Grant, stopping for a moment and turning around. Down along the coast he ran, passing the ledge where they usually went swimming and continuing his course towards a small crescent-shaped beach only a short distance away.
“I’m not going to miss anything,” exclaimed George, and he also commenced to run, followed closely by his three companions.
In a few moments they saw the cause of Grant’s excitement. When they reached the spot where they usually bathed they spied him standing on the shore gazing at an object which lay at his feet.
“Look at that,” exclaimed George, increasing his speed.
“What a monster,” echoed Fred.
The remaining distance between them and the object of their attention was covered in a remarkably short time by the three boys and their negro companion. Every one was eager to be the first on the spot.
“What do you think of that for a shark?” demanded Grant when the others had come to the place where he was standing.
“That’s not a shark, that’s a gunboat,” exclaimed George grimly. “Where did it come from?”
“It washed ashore.”
“Is it dead?”
“No,” jeered Fred. “It isn’t dead, Pop. It just crawled up on shore for a little nap.”
“You think you’re smart,” retorted George. “I just asked for information.”
“And I gave it to you, didn’t I?”
“Stop your fighting, you two,” exclaimed John. “Give some one else a chance.”
“How did it get here?” said George curiously. “What killed it?”
“Come around this side and I’ll show you,” said Grant.
All the others went with George and with the giant shark lying on its side, its white belly towards the waves, Grant pointed out the cause of its death.
“There it is,” he said quietly. A great gaping wound showed squarely in the center of the shark’s belly. It must have been nearly a foot in length.
“Whew!” whistled George. “Who did that?”
“Sam did it,” said John. “Isn’t that right, Sam?”
“Ah reckon it am.”
“Is this the shark that was after you, String?” exclaimed George.
“That’s the one.”
“And Sam killed him,” said George unable to fully understand it all. “I don’t see how he did it. Why, this shark must be twenty feet long.”
“Yes,” cried Grant, “and when somebody told you it was eighteen feet long you laughed. You said it was the biggest fish story you’d ever heard.”
“I take it back,” said George simply.
“How do you suppose he got here?” exclaimed John, who was examining with personal interest the mouth of the giant fish. Row after row of great white teeth, sharp as knives, were seen in the huge jaw. John shuddered as he remembered how nearly he had come to losing his life to those wicked weapons.
“It simply was washed up here by the waves,” said Grant. “It was thrashing around out there at a great rate after Sam and String had come ashore yesterday. I suppose it finally died and drifted in.”
“Well, I think Sam was wonderful to dispose of that fellow the way he did,” exclaimed George. “How did you do it, Sam?”
“With mah ol’ knife.”
“You thought he bit the shark to death, I suppose, Pop,” laughed Fred.
“Hot air!” was George’s only reply to his remark. Just what he meant by such a slang expression he probably knew best of all.
“Let’s measure the shark,” exclaimed Grant. “I’d like to settle the dispute once and for all and then when we go home and tell the story, people will have to believe us for we’ll all be witnesses.”
“How are you going to measure?” inquired Fred. “String’s shoe is up in the cave, you know.”
“We’ll use String himself instead of his shoe,” suggested Grant.
“What do you all take me for?” demanded John. “I’m no tape measure.”
“How tall are you?” asked Grant.
“Six feet two.”
“In your stocking feet?”
“Yes, and my bare feet, too.”
“All right then,” laughed Grant. “Just lie down alongside the shark.”
“Go ahead, String,” urged Fred. “It won’t hurt you.”
“I suppose not,” sighed John and he stretched himself at full length on the beach, the soles of his feet exactly on a line with the tip of the shark’s tail. Grant then marked the spot where his head came and John moved up to this spot and lay down once more. Again Grant indicated the spot by a mark in the sand and the performance was repeated. Four times it was necessary to do this before John had finally covered the entire length of the shark.
“He’s three and one-third times as long as you are, String,” announced Grant, when the measurements were completed.
“That’s twenty feet,” exclaimed George. “Say, that’s a real fish, isn’t it?”
“I should think so,” said Fred. “I’m also glad that he is dead and lying on the beach, for I’m afraid I couldn’t enjoy a swim with that fellow hanging around.”
“There are others,” said John.
“They won’t get me where I’m going in though,” laughed Fred. “I’ll be so close to shore that any shark would run aground trying to get at me.”
“Let’s all go in,” exclaimed Grant. “We’ve got work to-day and if we are going swimming we’d better hurry.”
“Ah mus’ hab one o’ dem teeth,” said Sam, referring to the array in the ugly mouth of the great shark.
“What do you want one of them for?” asked George curiously.
“’Cause it am sho’ to bring yo’ luck.”
“Then I want one too,” cried George. “I want luck myself.”
“Get us each one, will you, Sam!” exclaimed Fred. “We can at least wear them for watch fobs when we get home.”
“They’ll help us to find the gold maybe,” suggested George.
“Don’t worry about that,” exclaimed John, confidently. “We’ll find the gold all right and we don’t need any shark teeth or anything else to help us, either.”
“Well, I say we don’t fool around here any more, but go and get the gold,” said Fred. “All we’ve done so far is to talk about it.”
A moment later they were all splashing around in the water enjoying their early morning swim. Soon afterward they returned to the cave, where they collected everything they had that might aid them in their search for the buried treasure. They spent but little time there, however, and then quickly started on their way towards the big black rock that was so strangely fashioned in the semblance of a shark. Never did a party start out more eagerly or with higher hopes than this little band of castaways on their search for buried wealth.
“You’ve got your compass, haven’t you, Pop?” demanded Grant.
“Right in my hand,” replied George, holding the precious article in question up to view.
“Does it work?” asked Fred, slyly.
“Of course it works,” said George loftily. “Anything that I have is all right. You ought to know that by this time.”
“If we didn’t have so much work ahead of us this morning,” said Fred, “I should suggest that we stop here for a minute and take the conceit out of him.”
“Oh, Pop’s all right,” laughed Grant. “He just feels good to-day.”
“Why didn’t you bring your nice gentle little parrot along, Pop?” inquired John. “He’d have enjoyed seeing his owner do some work.”
“I was going to bring him,” said George, “but look what he did to me,” and he held up a bleeding finger. “That’s his answer to my invitation to come along.”
“Isn’t he affectionate?” laughed John. “My, I wish I had a parrot.”
“He’ll be all right some day,” said George seriously. “You see if he won’t.”
“I’m glad you’re the trainer and not I, anyway,” said John grimly.
Laughing and joking, bantering one another and full of spirits they soon came to their destination, and prepared to measure off the distances according to the code.
“Read what the code says first of all, Grant,” exclaimed Fred. “That’ll help us all to know just what we are to do.”
“You ought to know it by heart now I should think,” laughed Grant. “Still, I’ll read it if you say so.”
“Go ahead, Grant,” urged John, and once more they listened to the words that meant so much to every one of them.
“Take a course due north one hundred feet from the southern extremity of shark rock, then east fifty feet and north by east thirty-three. Dig.”
“Dig,” cried George. “That’s the important word. Dig! Dig! Dig!”
“Wait a minute, Pop,” exclaimed Grant. “We’ve got to find the place where we are to dig first, you know.”
“All right,” said George eagerly. “Here’s the compass.”
“Lay it flat out on the rock,” directed Grant. “We’ll take our first observation.”
The little instrument was placed on top of the great rock while the five gold seekers crowded around it eagerly. The delicate indicator fluttered excitedly for some moments, then its fluctuations gradually became less and less. At last it stopped entirely, the tiny needle pointing exactly north.
“There we are,” exclaimed George. “Now if we go directly opposite to the way that needle is pointing we’ll find the southern extremity of this rock.”
“That’s what we want,” cried Grant. “You walk down there, Fred.”
Fred hastened to obey and soon stationed himself at the opposite end of the rock, which happened to be the tail of the shark.
“Get in direct line now,” directed Grant.
“You’ll have to tell me what that is,” replied Fred. “I can’t tell the exact spot, you know, from looking at it.”
“That’s right,” agreed John, “and we don’t want to make any mistake at the very beginning of our calculations. That would throw us ’way off later on.”
“Take this stick,” suggested George, bringing up a long thin shoot he had torn from one of the nearby bushes. “Lay it flat out on the rock and in a direct line with the needle. Be sure to get it exact and if we do we can easily enough find the ‘southern extremity.’”
This was quickly done, and in a few moments the exact spot desired was located beyond the shadow of a doubt.
“Now,” exclaimed Grant, “the next thing to do is to measure off a distance due north from here.”
“Here’s your tape measure,” laughed John, offering his shoe to Grant. “That’s exactly ten inches long. I’ll take my oath to that.”
“Let’s see,” mused Grant. “We want to measure a hundred feet from here and the shoe is ten inches long. How are we going to figure that out?”
“That’s easy enough,” exclaimed John. “You do it this way: there are twelve inches in a foot, of course, and in one hundred feet there would be one hundred times twelve, or twelve hundred. Now the shoe is ten inches long, so you divide twelve hundred by ten, which is–”
“One hundred and twenty,” said Grant quickly.
“Right,” exclaimed John. “In other words, we want to measure a distance one hundred and twenty times the length of my shoe due north from here.”
“Go ahead and do it,” urged George. “I’ll do it myself.”
“You see to it that we keep going straight north,” advised Grant. “That is one of the most important things of all.”
“That suits me,” said George. “Start your measurements.”
The course led off across the sandy beach towards a little clump of pine trees. Placing the toe of John’s shoe close up against the spot on shark’s rock that was their starting place, Grant began to measure. With a small stick he marked the place to which the heel of the shoe extended and then repeated the operation, using the marker for a starting-point. George kept close watch with his compass to see that the correct direction was being followed.
It was slow work and arduous. Everybody was on his hands and knees keeping careful watch of all the operations. The sun was hot and in some places sharp stones or bits of coral were mixed in with the sand so that more than one of the little party soon had bleeding knees and hands as a result. No one seemed to mind or even to notice these discomforts, however. The task they were engaged in was so interesting and absorbing to them that they paid scant attention to anything else.
“Be sure to keep track of the number of times we have measured, Fred,” reminded Grant. “We don’t want any slip-up, you know.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Fred confidently. “Every time you shift that shoe I make a mark on this page from George’s diary. When there are five marks made I cross them off.”
“How many so far?” inquired John.
“Seventy,” replied Fred after a rapid calculation. “Fifty more to go.”
“Don’t hurry,” warned Grant. “We want it right, you know.”
“We certainly do,” agreed George. “We don’t want to do all this work for nothing.”
The measurements were continued, painfully and slowly. Every ten inches was marked off with the greatest of care, and if John’s statement that his shoe was exactly ten inches long was correct it seemed impossible that any mistake had crept into their calculations. John insisted over and over again that the length quoted was absolutely correct, but his friends kept on asking him, so anxious were they to be perfectly sure.
“One hundred and twenty,” announced Fred at length. “That’s the end of the first journey.”
“Thank goodness,” exclaimed Grant, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “That’s about as hard work as I care to do.”
“I should say it is,” agreed George. “Let’s rest for a few minutes.”
“I’ve got to,” said Grant. “I’ll never last otherwise.”
“Mark the exact spot where we are to start on the next lap,” said John, “and then let’s go up here in the shade and rest for a little while.”
“Good idea,” exclaimed Grant. “I’ll put this stick in the ground.”
The important spot plainly indicated, the whole party withdrew to the shade afforded by a neighboring clump of palms and stretched themselves upon the ground for a well earned rest.
“I don’t suppose we have any business to be working out in that sun in the middle of the day anyway,” said Grant. “It’s entirely too hot.”
“Do you think we’re apt to get a sunstroke?” queried John.
“There’s a good chance of it, I should think. I don’t believe that people who are used to living in the tropics would be working out in it either.”
“Suttinly dey wouldn’t,” said Sam with great conviction. “It am bery, bery dangerous.”
“I think so too,” exclaimed George. “I say we don’t do anything more until the sun begins to go down a little. We’ve got more than half of it measured out anyway, and it won’t take us so very long to do the rest.”
“The only trouble is,” remarked Fred, “that if we wait until then to finish the measuring we won’t be able to do any digging to-day.”
“What of it?” demanded Grant. “Gold won’t evaporate, you know, and if it’s there to-day it’ll be there just as much to-morrow.”
“You’re right, Grant,” agreed George. “There’s no hurry, and much as I want to see that gold, I’m willing to wait ’till to-morrow rather than run the risk of sunstroke or something.”
Having reached this decision they lay about in the shade all through the tropical noon and discussed the treasure for the thousandth time since they first had come into possession of the code. Sometimes they dozed and Sam, true to the traditions of his race, slept soundly.
At last the shadows began to lengthen and a cool breeze sprang up off the water. It was like food to a starving man it was so refreshing and strengthening.
“We’re off!” cried Grant, springing eagerly to his feet.
Every one joined him quickly and the task was resumed, and the air being cooler now, they all worked better and more easily.
“This next course is just half as long as the last one, isn’t it?” said Grant.
“Yes,” said John, “that makes just sixty times the length of my shoe.”
Due east they measured off the distance and before very long had marked the completion of the second stage of their journey.
“Now,” exclaimed Grant, “we go north by east thirty-three feet. How many lengths of your shoe is that, John?”
“You figure it out, Fred,” urged John. “You’ve got pencil and paper and all you have to do, you know, is to multiply thirty-three by twelve and divide by ten.”
“Thirty-nine and six-tenths times,” announced Fred. “How can we measure that fraction exactly?”
“We won’t need to,” said Grant. “It’s the last figure and we can get it within a couple of inches. We’ll dig a hole a couple of feet square all around our last marker, so two or three inches won’t make any difference.”
“That’s right,” agreed Fred, and the measurements were continued.
Soon they came to the end, but there an unexpected complication presented itself. Thirty-three feet from the last point brought them squarely up against a palm tree some twelve or fifteen inches in diameter.
“That’s the end,” exclaimed Fred. “How can we dig down through a tree like that though? We must have made a mistake in our calculations.”
“Why so?” demanded George.
“I don’t see how it could be any other way,” insisted Fred. “In the first place how can any one bury anything underneath a tree like that?”
“They didn’t,” said George. “They buried the treasure here and then planted this palm tree to mark the spot. Do you notice that it is the only one within fifty or a hundred feet of here?”
“You’re right, Pop,” exclaimed Grant. “I believe that that’s exactly what happened.”
After a sleepless and restless night the excited little party of treasure seekers repaired once more to the palm tree which marked the spot so long sought by them.
“Got your knife, Sam?” exclaimed Grant. “Let’s see how good a lumberman you are.”
“Ah’ll hab dat ol’ tree down in no time,” cried Sam confidently, and with his great heavy knife grasped firmly in his right hand he fiercely attacked the unsuspecting tree. The wood was soft and before long began to yield to Sam’s blows.
“That’ll just about finish up that knife,” remarked Grant to Fred.
“Suppose it does,” said Fred. “There’s another hoop from that old cask up at the cave and he can easily make another.”
“Isn’t a barrel of gold worth more than an old iron knife anyway?” said John. “I should say so if you asked me.”
“A barrel of gold wouldn’t have done you much good when that shark was after you though,” said Grant grimly. “I guess just at that time Sam’s old iron knife was worth more to you than anything in the world.”
“That’s true,” acknowledged John soberly. “I have no right to talk against that knife.”
“Come over here and give this tree a push,” shouted George who was bustling importantly around Sam. “You fellows seem to think this is a party or something. Come over here and do some work.”
No great amount of urging was required, however, and a moment later every one in the party was standing about the tree, pushing and pulling with all his might.
“She’s beginning to give!” exclaimed George. “Keep it up!”
“Let Sam get to work for a minute or so more,” suggested Grant. “About a dozen more good blows will finish the job.”
“Dat’s right,” agreed Sam readily. “Lemme at dat ol’ tree agin.”
As though it was his mortal enemy Sam attacked the unsuspecting palm tree and dealt it such fierce blows that it soon required only a slight exercise of strength to topple it over.
“There she is,” panted George when the tree lay prostrate. “She’s down and now the only thing that stands between us and the treasure is a few feet or yards of sand.”
“Let’s hope it’s feet,” said John.
“And that there are no rocks to go through either,” added Fred.
“You certainly can think of more hard luck than any one I ever saw, Fred,” exclaimed George, pretending to be very much discouraged with his friend. “Why do you always look on the dark side of things?”
“I don’t. I just believe in being sensible about it, that’s all.”
“It seems to me you’re always looking for trouble.”
“By the way,” said John, “you didn’t get those shark teeth, did you, Sam?”
“’Deed Ah didn’t,” exclaimed Sam, resting a moment from his exertions, for he had already commenced to dig. “Ah done clean forgot ’em.”
“Will that bring us hard luck?”
“Not at all,” said George. “Sam said that one would bring you good luck if you had it, but he didn’t say it would be hard luck without it.”
“I know that,” said John, “but I thought that perhaps if you had a chance to get one and didn’t do it you might give yourself bad luck.”
“You’re as bad as Fred,” exclaimed George disgustedly. “Why can’t you all be cheerful?”
“Why can’t you all go to work is what I’d like to know?” exclaimed Grant. “It seems to me that that is more important than luck.”
“You’re right, Grant,” said George readily. “There’s no such thing as luck.”
“There’s such a thing as work, though,” said Grant grimly. “Let’s all do some of it.”
They fell to work with a will and dug busily and steadily for a long time. A hole about four feet square was started and the boys were armed with almost everything one could think of in place of real tools. Sticks, flat pieces of rock, and hands almost more than anything else were employed.
“It’s a good thing for us we are digging in sand and not in clay,” remarked Fred after some time had elapsed.
“I should say it is!” agreed John. “As it is, we aren’t making a great deal of headway it seems to me.”
“Oh, yes, we are,” exclaimed Grant. “The hole is at least a couple of feet deep already.”
“I wish we could all get in there at once,” said George. “We could work much faster then.”
“Perhaps we won’t have to go much deeper,” said Grant hopefully.
“I think we shall though.”
“Suppose we take turns down there with the knife,” suggested Fred. “One of us can loosen up the sand with it and then a couple more can get in and throw it out.”
“That’s a good scheme,” exclaimed John. “Give me the knife, Sam.”
“Ah can do it mahself,” protested Sam.
“No, you can’t either,” laughed John. “You’ve done enough work for to-day anyway. Let me have it now and perhaps you can take another turn at it later.”
Reluctantly Sam gave up the knife and joined the others who stood and watched John down in the hole. When he had loosened a considerable amount of earth he climbed up and Fred and George took his place and threw the loose sand out of the pit. This operation was repeated many times with different ones doing the work. In this way the labor was lightened and the hole grew amazingly.
It was George’s turn with the knife and he was working tremendously. He hacked and carved the sand, exerting himself to the utmost. All at once the knife struck something hard that had a metallic ring to it.
“You’ve got it, Pop!” cried Grant excitedly. “You’ve got it sure!”
“Hurry up and dig around it,” exclaimed Fred. “Let me do it.”
“I can do it all right,” said George, and he fell to work with even more zeal than formerly.
Again and again his knife struck the metallic surface beneath him. His companions, grouped all around the pit, riveted their gaze on him and watched him with rapt attention. George dropped the knife and dug the sand away with his hands. The black top of an iron chest presented itself to the view of the fascinated onlookers.
“Can you move it, Pop?” cried Grant.
“I can’t find the edge of it.”
“Ah get ’im,” said Sam suddenly, and he dropped into the pit and began to work like a beaver. Their combined efforts soon cleared all the sand from the top of the chest, which appeared to be about eighteen inches square. On the top was a little handle with which to lift it.
“Lift it out, Sam!” cried John. “Lift it out!”
Sam exerted all his strength but could not budge the stocky little chest. It was either extremely heavy or stuck fast. Every one who was concerned in the matter was so interested in these operations that he was entirely unconscious of everything except what was going on in the pit right before their eyes.
“Dig it out a little more,” advised Grant. “You can lift it then.”
This proved to be true and a few moments later after a great pulling and tugging Sam succeeded in raising the heavy little chest from its place. Another great effort and he swung it up out of the pit where it was pounced upon by Fred, John and Grant. Sam and George followed almost instantly and an immediate inspection was made to see how it was to be opened.
“There’s no lock on–” began Grant eagerly, when he was strangely interrupted.
“Ahoy, there!” came a shout and in amazement every one turned to see whence came the hail. Its bow just grating on the beach, was a small boat manned by four sailors; a half-mile off shore a large steamer was riding at anchor. So engrossed had all the boys been in digging the pit that they had not once noticed nor suspected its approach.
“Well,” gasped John, “what do you think of that?”
“It means we get home all right anyway,” exclaimed Fred. “Where do you suppose it came from?”
“I don’t even care,” said George. “How about the treasure, Grant?”
“The chest is empty,” replied Grant gazing ruefully into the barren depths of the stout little iron box.
THE END