Part 39 (1/2)

”And here we've been sitting, like so many cabbage heads on a bench, waiting for someone to come and tell us about it!” snorts Old Hickory.

”Excellent! Killam, do you think you can pilot us back without trying to cut new channels through the State of Florida?”

Rupert don't make any promises, but he gets busy; and pretty soon we're under way. It's about then that I springs this hunch of mine.

”Say, Mr. Ellins,” says I, ”was this island you were lookin' for a little one with a hump in the middle?”

”That tallies with Captain Killam's description,” says he. ”Why?”

”Well,” I goes on, ”a little while before we located you we pa.s.sed one like that. Don't you remember, Vee?”

”That's so,” says Vee; ”we did. I know right where it is, too.”

”We might take a glance at it,” says Old Hickory. ”Killam, give Miss Verona the wheel.”

I couldn't have said exactly which way to go, but Vee never hesitates a second. She steers straight back on the course we'd come, and inside of fifteen minutes we shoots past a point and opens up a whole clump of islands, with one tiny one tucked away in the middle.

”That's it!” shouts Rupert, jumpin' up and down. ”That's Nunca Secos Key!”

”Maybe,” says Old Hickory. ”There does seem to be something of an elevation in the center. Let's run in as close as we can, Verona.”

By this time we were all grouped in the bow, stretchin' our necks and gazin' interested.

”The mound!” suddenly sings out Rupert, pointin' excited. ”The treasure mound! I told you I'd find it.”

”Huh!” says Old Hickory. ”You forgot to mention, however, that you would need Miss Verona and Torchy to do the finding for you.”

Well, no need goin' into details, but that's how Vee and me happened to get counted in as reg'lar treasure hunters, to share and share alike.

We was elected right on the spot.

”And now,” says Old Hickory, grabbin' up a spade from the bottom of the boat, ”now we--”

”Now we will go back to the yacht and get some sleep,” announces Auntie. ”I've had treasure hunting enough for one night. So have you, Matthew Ellins, if you only knew it.”

Old Hickory shrugs his shoulders. He drops the spade. Then he lets go of a yawn.

”Oh, well!” says he. ”If that's the way you feel about it.”

”What!” says Vee. ”Go another whole day without knowing whether--”

”Certainly,” cuts in Auntie. ”I'm so sleepy I couldn't tell a doubloon from a doughnut. Ho-ho-hum! Let's be getting back.”

It wasn't much after six when we made the yacht, but the whole crew seems to be up and stirrin' around. As we comes alongside they sort of groups themselves into a gawp committee forward, and I caught them pa.s.sin' the smile and nudge to each other. The two sailors that mans the landin' stairs are on the broad grin. It's well for them that neither Auntie nor Old Hickory seems to notice. I did, though, and trails behind the others gettin' out.

”What's all the comedy for?” I demands.

”Nothing at all, sir,” says one.

Then the other breaks in with, ”Any luck, sir?”