"He'll fly around them like that," said Grant, "until he sees a good chance and then you'll see him strike like lightning."

"They mustn't give him a chance," muttered Fred doggedly.

"They won't if they can help it, you may be sure of that."

"There he goes!" cried Fred. "No, not yet," he corrected himself.

"He'll strike, all right. Just watch him."

"If Sam can only use that knife."

"Maybe he won't attack Sam."

"They're awfully close together now," said Fred. "If he goes for John, Sam can stick him and if he goes for Sam, why he has the knife right there."

"The old knife will never go through that shark's hide," exclaimed Grant. "It's almost as hard as sheet steel."

"Here's the test anyway," cried Fred, and as he spoke the giant fin could be seen darting suddenly towards the two swimmers. Just before it reached them it disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

"He has turned bottom side up to bite," muttered Grant, fully understanding just what was taking place.

Sam and John had noted the approach of their enemy and both realized that the crisis of the whole affair was now at hand. If they could elude him this once, the chances were that they could reach shallow water where the shark would not dare to follow them. They both began to kick violently and splash as much as possible with their hands; they shouted and yelled; they did everything which they thought might possibly aid them in scaring the great ugly fish away.

Grant and Fred on the shore held their breath while all this was taking place and their hearts almost stopped beating. With feverish anxiety they awaited the result of the battle taking place before their very eyes.

"There's John," cried Grant suddenly. "Where's Sam?"

"I don't see him. I don't see the shark either."

"The splashing has stopped. Sam must have been killed."

"Oh, no," exclaimed Fred. "Don't say that. It can't be."

"Where is he then?"

"Look!" cried Fred.

The water some five or ten yards behind John was suddenly churned into froth. Red, bloody froth it was and evidently some gigantic struggle was going on. All at once, just on the outside of the miniature maelstrom, appeared a small round, black object.

"There's Sam!" shouted Grant.

Sure enough. Sam was still alive and without wasting a moment he struck out boldly for the shore. John was ahead of him, but he was soon overhauled by the powerful negro and side by side the two swimmers plowed through the sea. Behind them the waters were still churned by the struggles of the great shark, but they were rapidly becoming weaker.

"Sam killed the shark," exclaimed Fred, almost overcome by the suddenness and the unexpectedness of the event.

"It looks so," agreed Grant. "I didn't think it was possible."

"Nor I. Imagine the nerve he had, and that old knife certainly did do the work after all."

"Well, John owes his life to Sam all right. He surely would have been killed if he had been left out there alone."

"Not a doubt of it. I don't see how Sam managed it."

"We'll find out in a minute. John must be about exhausted too; Sam is helping him in."

"Want any help, you two?" called Fred to the two swimmers who were rapidly approaching the shore.

"No, thanks," said John in reply. "Sam will get us in."

Grant and Fred leaned far out over the water and extended their hands to the two swimmers who were only a few feet distant now. A moment later and they had drawn John up on the shore, where he lay panting, his strength practically all used up. When they turned to assist Sam, however, they found their negro friend clambering up without the least bit of trouble.

"What's the matter with your shoulder, Sam?" exclaimed Grant in alarm.

The skin seemed to be all torn away and the blood was flowing freely from Sam's right shoulder. Just what had happened, it was impossible to say.



CHAPTER XX

TALKING IT OVER

"Dat," said Sam, referring to Grant's question concerning his shoulder, "am wheah Ah come in too clost contack wif dat sha'k."

"Did he bite you?" exclaimed Fred.

"No, indeed. He jes' nachully done rub up again' me, dat's all."

"But just rubbing against you wouldn't tear you up like that," protested Fred.

"Am dat so? Ah don't reckon yo' all evah seen a sha'k at front han' ef yo' say dat. Have yo' evah felt a sha'k's skin?"

"No, I haven't. Is it rough?"

"Have you evah felt san' paper?"

"Lots of times. Is it as rough as that?"

"Lawdy," exclaimed Sam. "In compahson wif a sha'k's skin Ah tell yo' dat san' paper am lak velvet."

"I should say it was rough, then," laughed Fred. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"It must," Grant broke in, "and it ought to be attended to at once."

"Dat's nothin'," said Sam carelessly. "She'll be all right soon."

"I know," Grant protested, "but just look at it bleed."

"All de bettah. When she bleed lak dat dey's no chance ob poison."

"But it ought to be stopped now. Come up by the spring where there's cold water and let me bathe it for you."

"Go ahead, Sam," urged John, looking up and speaking for the first time since he had been brought ashore.

"That's right," agreed Fred. "I'll stay here with John."

"No one need stay with me," said John. "I'm getting my wind back now and as soon as I get a little strength I'll be as good as ever."

"What made you swim so far out anyway?" demanded Fred.

"I don't know. I guess I was crazy."

"You were worse than that," exclaimed Fred. "You were a fool."

"Don't tell me that; I know it myself now. We always do when it's too late."

"Well, I can tell you one thing," said Grant warmly. "You wouldn't be here now if it hadn't been for Sam."

"Right you are," John agreed. "I certainly owe my life to you, Sam."

"Ah guess mebbe Ah will bafe mah shouldah," said Sam, much embarrassed and ill at ease from all the compliments that were being given him.

"We'll all go with you," said John. "I'm all right now."

"And we'll make Sam tell us how he did it," added Fred eagerly.

"That's right, Sam," exclaimed Grant. "Tell us all about it."

"Well," began Sam slowly, "Ah doan' know jes' what dey is to tell. Ah jes' took dis heah knife wot yo' all done make so much fun ob, an' Ah jes' stick ol' mistah sha'k plum' in de belly wid it. Dat's all dey was to it."

"But, Sam," Fred protested, "how did you get close enough to him? Did he attack you?"

"Ah reckon as how he did do dat," said Sam. "He jes' came a swimmin' right at me and natchully dey was only one thing foh me to do."

"Naturally," laughed Grant, "but tell us how you happened to get a good chance at him and not be bitten."

"When Ah seen dat sha'k a comin' at me," continued Sam, "Ah knowed dat he meant business. Ah took mah knife in mah right han' an' Ah jes' sunk a tweeny bit below de sufface ob de watah. He seen me an' he come right foh me too. Ah waited foh him to turn belly up 'cause Ah knowed dat what he 'bliged to do befoh he able to use dem razah teeth ob his'n. Sho' nuff jes' befoh he reach me, ovah he go and den was mah chance. Ah sho' did let 'im have it an' Ah guess he ain' gwine bothah no more peoples."

"You must have been under water a long time," remarked Grant.

"Not so berry long," said Sam. "Dat ol' sha'k didn't waste no time about what he doin' an' yo' bet Ah didn't neither."

"I guess not," laughed Grant. "When did he hit your shoulder?"

"Right after Ah done stick 'im. Soon's Ah let 'im hab de knife he done commence thrashin' 'round somethin' terrible. 'Fore Ah could get out ob his way he done hit me a swipe wid dat ol' tail ob his an' dar yo' see it." Sam indicated his shoulder, which was still bleeding, though not as freely as before.

"Well, all I can say is," exclaimed Fred, "that you ought to have a medal. I swear I don't see how anyone could have the nerve to fight a shark in the water. Why, I'd be afraid of one lying half dead on the beach."

"So should I," said Grant. "How big was that fellow anyway, John?"

"Oh, I don't know. He must have been nearly eighteen feet though."

"Come on here," said Fred skeptically, "you can't make us believe a thing like that. Eighteen feet; why, that's three times as long as you are."

"I know it is. I realized that when I said it."

"Is he right, Sam?" demanded Fred. "Was the shark as big as that?"

"Ah should say he was jes' about dat size," replied Sam seriously.

"All right," laughed Fred. "I won't argue with you, but that's easily the biggest fish story I ever heard."

"It was the biggest fish I ever saw," said John grimly. "Whew!" and he shuddered at the recollection.

"What did you think when you saw him first?" asked Grant curiously.

"I was nearly scared to death," said John so solemnly that everybody laughed. "I was swimming along easily and just taking my time when I suddenly had a feeling that something was near me. I looked around and sure enough, over the top of a little wave, I saw that fin. I tell you it gave me the creeps and I honestly thought my last day had come. I knew it was only a question of time before he attacked me and I watched him pretty closely, I can tell you. All the while I kept trying to get in nearer to shore, but I was afraid to swim fast for I knew that if I did I couldn't watch the shark and that he would get me from behind."

"A nice feeling," remarked Fred grimly.

"I should say so. Well, in a minute I saw him coming and I began to kick and splash with all my might. I didn't think it would be of any use, but I had to do something. Imagine my surprise when I saw him veer away from me. I knew he'd be back though and sure enough he was, and again I scared him away, but I knew it couldn't last forever. He was getting more determined and closer to me each time and Sam got there none too soon I can tell you."

"How did you know what was happening, Sam?" demanded Grant. "I thought you were on watch up by the flag."

"So Ah was. Ah could see jes' the same, couldn't Ah?"

"I guess you could," laughed Grant. "It's lucky you could too."

"Maybe a ship has passed while we were down here," remarked Fred.

"A fine chance," said John skeptically. "No ships ever pass here."

"This island reminds me of that old story about the farmer at the circus," said Grant. "He looked at the giraffe for a long time and then finally turned away in disgust. 'Oh, shucks,' he said, 'there ain't no such animal.' That's the way I feel about this island. There isn't any such place."

"It does seem so, doesn't it?" laughed Fred. "At any rate all the boats seem to avoid it. We may never get a chance to use that signal."

On the summit of the hill near the spot where George's shirt did duty as a flag the boys had prepared a great pile of driftwood. The moment a ship was sighted this pyre was to be lighted to attract the attention of those on board the boat.

"Dey's plenty ob people wot would lak to find dis island all right," said Sam confidently. "Ah knows piles ob sailors wot would gib dere eye teeth to see dis yere island wid de sha'k rock on it."

"Well, we found it all right," exclaimed Grant, "and from the look of things it is just as hard for us to get away from it as it is for most people to find it."

"We've done better than most of them anyway," said Fred. "We've found the island but we can't find the treasure. Most people can't even find the island."

"It hasn't done us any good so far," said Grant. "Now that we're on this wonderful island what are we going to do about it?"

"Solve the code," replied Fred promptly. "Once that is done the rest is easy."

"The same old cry," exclaimed Grant. "That code is beginning to haunt my dreams. I think of it all day and I dream of it all night."

"Perhaps you'll find the answer to it in a dream some time," suggested John.

"If I only could," sighed Grant disconsolately. "Come on," he added, "let's go back to the cave. Have you fixed your shoulder up all right, Sam?"

"It am as good as ebber," replied Sam cheerily.

They made their way along the bank of the little stream that flowed down from the spring. A soft breeze stirred the palm trees and the tropical foliage was brilliant. It would have been difficult to find any more beautiful spot than this little island, set like a jewel, on the bosom of the sparkling sea. The spell of it affected every member of the party and few words were spoken as they walked along.

Soon they came within sight of the cave.

"There's Pop," exclaimed John. "It's about time he got back."

"He'll certainly be excited when he hears about the shark," said Grant. "I wish he had been there with us."

"He's been up to something himself probably," said Fred. "You can trust him for stirring things up, no matter where he is."

"Well, I guess he has been up to something," exclaimed John. "Look at what he's got up there."



CHAPTER XXI

A NEW MEMBER

"Come on," cried John excitedly. "Let's get up there and see it."

"How do you suppose he ever did it?" exclaimed Grant. "He's a great one, all right."

Scrambling and hustling up over the rocks George's four companions vied with one another as to who should be the first to reach the cave. John's long legs would ordinarily have won the race for him, but he was weakened by the effects of his experience in the water, and Grant outdistanced him. The rest were close behind, however, and all arrived almost together.

"Where did you get it, Pop?" demanded Grant eagerly.

"Oh, down at the other end of the island," said George evasively.

His face was wreathed in smiles, however, and he was very proud of his exploit.

"I don't see how you did it," exclaimed Fred.

"I'm clever."

"Don't get funny," warned Grant. "We'll take it out of you if you get fresh."

"You can't touch me now," said George loftily.

"What's the reason we can't?"

"Because if you do, I'll—"

He did not finish the sentence. Instead he leaped to his feet and hanging on to one hand howled with pain. His friends, however, instead of sympathizing with him, all with one accord shrieked delightedly.

"Whew!" cried George feelingly. "He's a good biter all right."

"He," in this case referred to a small green parrot which George had been holding in both hands. In some way it had wriggled loose from his grasp and twisting its head around had taken a good sized bit of flesh out of the back of his hand. This was the cause of George's pain and his friends' mirth.

"Put a muzzle on him, Pop," advised Fred. "He's dangerous."

"He certainly is," agreed George. "I'm afraid he'll bite that string in half too."

"How did you catch him?" inquired Grant curiously. "Did you put salt on his tail?"

George gave the speaker a scornful look. "I caught him," he replied, "because he has a broken wing and can't fly very well. It wasn't any easy job, though."

"How did he break his wing?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask him."

"Say, you're getting awfully fresh," exclaimed Grant, pretending that he was angry. "Can't you be serious and tell us how you caught him?"

"Certainly I can, I was walking down around the end of the island when I spied this fellow on the ground. I went up close to him and he just flopped up and down and evidently could use only one wing. I saw right away that it was broken and decided right there and then that he ought to belong to me. I chased him all around for I don't know how long and finally I grabbed him by the tail feathers and hung on. It was no easy thing to do though and I can tell you I nearly gave it up any number of times. Just as I'd get up close to him and make a grab at him, he'd hop away and when I did catch him he tried his best to bite me. He's got plenty of spunk all right," and George looked ruefully at his bleeding hand.

"Are you going to tame him?" asked John.

"I'm going to do my best."

"Do you think he'll stay around here?"

"He will as long as he's tied, that's sure. I got that string off that old tarpaulin; you know the one we had in the life-boat when we left the Josephine."

"You ought to clip his wings," said Grant.

"I know it and I intend to, too. I was just waiting for some of you fellows to come back and help me. Where have you been anyway?"

The whole story of John and the shark was related to George, who was naturally very much interested in the account.

"I wish I'd been there to see it," he exclaimed ruefully.

"No, you don't either," said Fred. "I saw it all, but I can tell you I didn't enjoy the experience very much."

"Nor I," agreed Grant. "It was too harrowing for me."

"I don't suppose John had much fun either," said George. "As far as I can see Sam was the only one who got any pleasure out of it at all."

"How about that, Sam?" demanded Grant.

"Oh, Ah didn't mind it so powerful much," grinned Sam.

"Would you want to do it every day?"

"Ah cain't say as how Ah would. One ob dem sha'ks might get me sometime."

"Suppose the shark had swallowed John," George remarked. "He's so tall and skinny that he never could have gotten him down and there he'd stuck right in his throat. He'd been worse than Jonah and the whale."

"Are you going to stand for that, Spike?" inquired Fred mischievously, hoping to start an argument of some kind.

"He has to," said George. "He has nothing to say about the matter at all," and he assumed a careless and indifferent air.

"If I wasn't so weak just now I certainly would make him eat those words," exclaimed John.

"You hear that?" demanded George. "It's always 'if' with him."

"And you always pick on a man when he's down," retorted John.

"How about me? Just look at the terrible wound I have on the back of my hand."

"Yes," said Grant, "the parrot thought you were bird seed."

"Or a cracker," added Fred.

"That's right," cried George, pretending to be greatly hurt. "You all always take sides against me. Still it's an even match at that."

"I guess we'd better take some of that conceit out of him, don't you?" exclaimed Grant slowly advancing towards George.

"Well, I should say so," cried Fred eagerly, and a moment later George was at the bottom of a pile of four boys, three of whom busied themselves with poking him in the ribs, jouncing up and down on his stomach and in every other way possible making it just as uncomfortable as they could for him.

Everyone was laughing and in good humor, however. Seldom it was that any of these boys lost his temper, for they had learned long ago just how foolish a proceeding that was. The one who gets angry is always teased, but there is no satisfaction in plaguing a boy who ignores it or gives as good as he receives and always keeps his temper under control.

Finally George was released and all four boys rose to their feet laughing and good natured. Sam had been a greatly interested spectator of these proceedings and had enjoyed them greatly.

"Say," he exclaimed, "dey am jus' about as bad as fightin' sha'ks."

"You notice it took three of them to do it though, don't you, Sam?" exclaimed George, weak from laughter and loss of breath.

"Want some more?" demanded Grant.

"If you'll come one at a time, I'm willing."

"Dat's de way," exclaimed Sam. "One at a time. Dat's fair."

"We'll postpone it till to-morrow," said Grant. "I'm winded."

"You're afraid of me," taunted George.

"Oh, go and play with your parrot," exclaimed Fred. "You're a bird yourself."

"Where is he?" demanded George. "I'd almost forgotten him."

"There he is," said Fred laughingly. "He looks like a little old man sitting up there on that rock."

"He's all right; don't you worry about him," said George. "He's my friend."

"It looked so when he ate the back of your hand off," laughed Grant.

"That's just the way he shows his affection," exclaimed George. "He didn't mean anything by that."

"Well, if that's the case," said Grant, "I'm certainly glad he doesn't care anything about me."

"Catch him, Pop," urged John, "and we'll clip his wings."

"Will you help me? I don't want to lose him now after all the trouble I had to get him. I think I can tame him, too."

"Sure you can. Get him over here."

"How can I do it?"

"I'll show you," exclaimed John. "Watch me."

He seized hold of the string that was tied around the parrot's leg and began to haul in hand over hand. The poor bird fluttered and struggled indignantly but all to no avail. He was quickly pulled along until he was at John's feet when George grabbed him and held him securely.

"Now how can we cut his wings?" demanded Fred. "We have no scissors."

"We have knives, haven't we?" exclaimed George.

"But are they sharp enough?"

"Mine is."

"So am mine," said Sam. "It suttinly done fix dat sha'k all right."

"I'm afraid it's a little too big for a parrot though," laughed Grant. "Don't you think so?"

"P'raps it am," admitted Sam. "It's sho' a good knife dough."

"Spread his wings out on the rock here," directed John. "I'll cut the tips off his feathers so he can't fly away."

"Don't hurt him."

"No danger of that. You just hold him still."

The operation was quickly performed and a few moments later the little green bird was angrily stalking away, shaking his ruffled feathers and uttering indignant squawks at every step.

"Look at him," laughed Grant. "My, but he's mad."

"So would you be," said George. "Imagine being treated like that by someone about a hundred times as big as you are."

"It would rouse me a little," admitted Grant. "What are you going to name him?"

"I don't know. What's a good name, anyway?"

"Call him Snip," suggested Fred. "He certainly took a snip out of you."

"That's a good one," exclaimed George. "His name is Snip."

"You'll have to teach him his name now, Pop," said Grant. "That'll give you something to do and keep you out of mischief."

"I want him to talk, too," said George, "and I want him to get so tame that he'll ride around on my shoulder wherever I go."

"And he'll peck your eye out," said John.

"Oh, I guess not. He'll be all right after a while."

"How are you going to go about teaching him to talk?" demanded John. "I suppose he'll have to learn the alphabet first," and he nudged Grant as he spoke.

"Oh, yes, of course," laughed George sarcastically. "You're all pretty smart."

"Why, Pop," said John, soothingly, "it wouldn't take long. There are only twenty-six letters in it."

"What did you say?" cried Grant, suddenly springing to his feet.

"I said there were twenty-six letters in the alphabet."

"Hooray!" shouted Grant, and he began to dance around like a wild man. "I've got it. I've got it," he repeated excitedly over and over again.



CHAPTER XXII

A CLUE

Grant's companions sat and looked at him in amazement not unmixed with alarm. They could see no reason for his strange behavior and were at a complete loss what to make of it. They watched their comrade execute a war dance around the entrance to the cave for some moments and finally disappear within, uttering one last triumphant whoop.

"What struck him?" exclaimed John in perplexity.

"He's gone crazy I guess," said Fred. "I can't think of anything else."

"Ah believe yo' am right," said Sam in a hollow voice. "Ef he try to mess me up Ah sho' gwine use dis knife."

"Put that away, Sam," said John, sharply. "Don't be silly."

"But ef he's crazy," protested Sam, "Ah suttinly boun' proteck mahself."

"He's not crazy," exclaimed George. "He'll be out in a minute and tell us just what is wrong with him."

"Go and see what he's doing, Pop," urged Fred.

"I will not. He said he'd got it and he might get me, too. What do you suppose he was talking about anyway?"

"Here he comes now. Ask him."

Grant emerged from the cave, his manner showing how excited he was. He walked rapidly and his hands shook with nervousness. He carried the piece of parchment that had become so familiar to the four boys.

"He must have meant the code," whispered Fred to George.

"He couldn't have solved it," said George in a low voice. "How could he?"

"I don't know. At any rate he may have had an idea."

Grant advanced rapidly towards the spot where his companions were grouped and seated himself in front of them.

"What's going on, Grant?" demanded John curiously.

"Just a minute and I'll show you something," and he spread the code out on the ground while the rest of the little party peered eagerly over his shoulder.

"Now, first of all," began Grant, "you all know what this is."

"It's a combination to a safe," said George readily.

"Keep quiet, Pop," exclaimed Fred. "Give him a chance."

"It's a code," said Grant, ignoring George's facetious remark.

"We know that," agreed Fred. "Don't be so mysterious."

"What's the highest number in it?" demanded Grant.

"He sounds like a trick man," laughed George jeeringly.

"No treasure for Pop," said Grant shortly. "What's the highest number in it?"

"I guess we'll have to do it this way," said John with a sigh. "Let me see," he added. "I guess twenty-five is the highest number."

"All right. How many letters are there in the alphabet?"

"Twenty-six."

"But, Grant," Fred protested, "I don't see what you're getting at?"

"You will soon enough. Just have a little patience."

"But why don't you tell us what your idea is right now?"

"Because I don't want to. At any rate it's only an idea and I don't know whether it's right or not and I haven't worked it out myself. That's what we are doing now and I want you all to help me. The whole thing may be wrong, but it sounds pretty good to me. John's remark about the number of letters in the alphabet gave me the idea."

"Then I ought to get the credit if we solve the code," exclaimed John.

"You'll be lucky if you don't get shot," said George. "You ought to be."

"Go ahead with your explanation, Grant," urged Fred. "Everybody keep quiet and give him a chance."

"All right," said Grant. "We've noticed that the highest number is twenty-five and that there are twenty-six letters in the alphabet, haven't we?"

"We have," said John so solemnly that George giggled outright. His friends, however, were in a very serious mood and he quickly realized that his hilarity was decidedly out of place.

"What number appears most frequently?"

"I guess fourteen does," said Fred after a hasty survey of the figures spread out on the ground before them.

"No, five," exclaimed John. "There are a good many more fives than there are fourteens."

"Perhaps there are," Fred admitted. "Go ahead, Grant."

Grant made some calculations that his comrades could not follow before he replied to Fred's remark. His friends eyed him curiously.

"Suppose we put the letter e wherever the number five occurs," he said at length.

"What are you going to do that for?" demanded George, now very much interested in the experiment Grant was conducting.

"Never mind why," exclaimed Grant. "Do as I say."

"Give me a sheet out of your diary, Pop," said Fred. "I'll do the figuring."

"Are you going to write it all down?" inquired George.

"Shall I, Grant?"

"Put it all down. We'll go slowly, but we'll do it right."

"All right," exclaimed Fred. "Here goes," and he wrote as follows, substituting the letter for the number every time he came to it:

20-1-11-e-1-3-15-21-18-19-e-4-21-e-14-15-18-20-8-15-14-e-8-21-14-18-e- 4-6-e-e-20-6-18-15-13-20-8-e-19-15-21-20-8-e-18-14-e-24-20-18-e-13-9- 20-25-15-6-19-8-1-18-11-18-15-3-11-20-8-e-14-e-1-19-20-6-9-6-e-e-20- 1-14-4-14-15-18-20-8-2-25-e-1-19-20-20-8-9-18-20-25-20-8-18-e-e-4-9-7.

"Well," exclaimed George when Fred had finished, "it may be very simple and all that, but it doesn't mean anything to me."

"Of course, not yet," said Grant. "Have a little patience."

"Why don't you tell us what your system is?"

"No, you wait."

"How about fourteen now?" demanded Fred. "We decided that was a pretty common number, you know. What shall I do with that?"

"I'll tell you," said Grant and once again he appeared to calculate something in his head. "In place of fourteen put the letter n," he directed, "and use the copy you just made."

"What do you mean by the copy I just made?"

"I mean leave the letter e where you put it in the last time."

"Here we go," exclaimed Fred and this is what he wrote:

20-1-11-e-1-3-15-21-18-19-e-4-21-e-n-15-18-20-8-15-n-e-8-21-n-4-18-e- 4-6-e-e-20-6-18-15-13-20-8-e-19-15-21-20-8-e-18-n-e-24-20-18-e-13-9- 20-25-15-6-19-8-l-18-11-18-15-3-11-20-8-e-n-e-1-19-20-6-9-6-20-25-6 -e-e-20-1-n-4-n-15-18-20-8-2-25-e-1-19-20-20-8-9-18-20-25-20-8-18-e -e-4-9-7.

"Clear as mud," cried George, slapping Fred heartily on the back. "You're a wonder, Peewee, my boy."

"I must confess I don't understand all this business," exclaimed Fred. "Why don't you tell us what you are trying to do, Grant?"

"Because I'm not sure that I know myself."

"Tell us what you think anyway," urged John. "There's no harm in that."

"I'd rather not," said Grant. "If you fellows don't want to help me any more though, I'm perfectly willing to work it out by myself."

"No, you don't," exclaimed Fred. "If there's anything going to happen around here I want to be on hand."

"An' me too," said Sam eagerly. "Ah wants to be heah when dat treasah am discovahed. Ah'll fix dem niggers in Richmond yet."

"Good boy, Sam," exclaimed Grant. "You and I will work it out together."

"Ah cain't read nor write," said Sam disconsolately. "Ah's afraid Ah wouldn't be ob bery much help to yo'. Ah can suttingly do some diggin' dough."

"Oh, I'm going to stay along; don't worry about that," said Fred. "I wish Grant would tell us what he's trying to do, but I'm going to stay by him whether he tells or not."

"I know what he's trying to do," said George. "It's simple enough."

"What is it then?" demanded Grant.

"Why, he thinks these numbers are used in place of letters. A certain number means a certain letter and wherever he sees it he substitutes the letter."

"We all know that much," cried John scornfully. "What we want to know is how he figures out what letter to put in place of a certain number. Can you tell us that?"

"No, I can't," George admitted ruefully.

"Then you don't know how he does it, do you?"

"No, I don't. That is, not yet."

"Go ahead then, Grant," exclaimed John. "We're wasting time here."

"You want to go on with it, do you?"

"Of course we do."

Grant picked up the code and studied it attentively for some moments. Finally he put it down again. "Suppose we put the letter h in place of the figure eight," he said. "Eight seems to be a fairly common number."

Once again Fred copied the mysterious set of numbers, making the change that Grant had suggested.



CHAPTER XXIII

PROGRESS

When Fred had completed his task the following result appeared:

20-1-11-e-1-3-15-21-18-19-e-4-25-e-n-15-18-20-h-15-n-e-h-21-n-4-18-e- 4-6-e-e-20-6-18-15-13-2-h-e-19-15-21-20-h-e-18-n-e-24-20-18-e-13-9- 20-25-15-6-19-h-1-18-11-18-15-3-11-20-h-e-n-e-1-19-20-6-9-6-20-25-6- e-e-20-1-n-4-n-15-18-20-h-2-25-e-1-19-20-20-h-9-18-20-25-20-h-18-e- e-4-9-7.

"Is it coming out all right, Grant?" asked John. "It doesn't look like very much to me just yet."

"It doesn't spell any words yet," said Fred.

"Yes, indeed, it certainly does," exclaimed Grant. "There's he a couple of times. That spells something, doesn't it!"

"Yes, that does," admitted Fred, "but what can n-e-h be? I never heard of that word or e-n-e either."

"You must remember that it isn't all done yet by a good deal," Grant protested. "You see we've substituted only three letters so far and it spells two words already. I call that pretty good work."

"Yes, and in a minute you may run up against a snag and find that you're all wrong," said George.

"Quite right," admitted Grant. "If my system is wrong we'll find it out pretty soon, too. It seems to me to be worth trying though."

"Oh, I think so, too," exclaimed Fred readily. "Let's try another now."

"Why can't you substitute two at once?" said John. "That would save a lot of time."

"I know it would," admitted Grant. "It would also double the chances of mistakes and we don't want to make any if we can help it."

"We'll be careful," said George. "Go into another trance, Grant, and tell us two letters this time. You're a regular Hindoo fakir and for all I know you may have hypnotized the whole crowd of us."

"Come on, Pop! Be serious," exclaimed John.

"I am serious and I'm just as anxious to solve this as you are. You don't mind if I get a little fun out of it though, do you?"

"Got the letters, Grant?" demanded Fred of the owner of the secret, who was busily engaged in more calculations. His eyes were half shut and he did a great deal of counting on his fingers.

"Ssh," hissed George softly, but no one noticed him.

"All right," said Grant suddenly. "Put r in place of eighteen and t in place of twenty."

"I've got your system," exclaimed John all at once. "I had an idea before and now I'm quite sure of it."

"What is it, String?" inquired George eagerly.

"I won't tell you. Wait and see if I'm right."

"I thought you said you were."

"I think I am."

"Don't tell him, String, if you know," urged Grant.

"I won't; don't worry about that. Isn't it simple?"

"Just like you," muttered George, but no one heeded him.

"Go ahead, Fred," said Grant. "Write it out again."

When Fred had complied the code had the following appearance,—

t-1-11-e-1-3-15-21-r-19-e-4-21-e-n-15-4-t-h-15-n-e-h-21-n-4-r-e-4-6- e-e-t-6-r-15-13-t-h-e-19-15-21-t-h-e-r-n-e-24-t-r-e-13-9-t-25-15-6- 19-h-1-r-11-r-15-3-11-t-h-e-n-e-1-19-t-6-9-6-t-25-6-e-e-t-1-n-4-n- 15-r-t-h-2-25-e-1-19-t-t-h-9-r-t-25-t-h-r-e-e-4-9-7.

"Well, you've got more letters in it than you had anyway," exclaimed George, "and right down at the end there it spells the word three. Grant, I believe you may be on the right track after all."

"Yes, sir, we'll all be rich soon," exclaimed John. "Just think of us going home with great bags of gold and jewels slung over each shoulder."

"Say!" cried Sam, his eyes sparkling and his ivory teeth showing in a dazzling smile. "Wouldn't dat be great?"

"See any ships coming to rescue us?" said John. "Who wants to be rescued anyway? We're going to find the gold; we're going to find the gold!" and he danced joyously around, waving his arms about his head while he chanted over and over again the same refrain, "We're going to find the gold; we're going to find the gold!"

"I'm afraid you're a little previous, String," laughed Grant, looking up from the code which he had been studying intently. "We haven't got it yet, you know."

"But we shall," insisted John joyously. "We'll find it all right."

"Let's keep at it," exclaimed Fred. "That's the best way I know to accomplish anything. Talking about it doesn't do much good."

"Give him a couple more letters then, Grant," exclaimed George.

"Let me give him one," said John. "See if I can guess right."

"All right," said Grant, "you try it this time and see if you know the trick."

"Give me two," said Fred. "We worked two at a time before and we ought to be able to do it again."

"What numbers do you want letters for?" inquired John.

"Let me see," mused Fred. "How about eleven and fifteen?"

"Just a second now," and John began to calculate and count on his fingers just as Grant had done.

"Another fakir," whispered George, but as usual no one paid the slightest attention to him. Every one was intent upon the code and too much interested in it to be diverted by anything else.

"Put k in place of eleven, and o in place of fifteen," said John after he had apparently satisfied himself as to the correctness of his calculations. "Is that correct, Grant?"

"Absolutely," said Grant. "You know the system all right."

"You might tell us," exclaimed George enviously.

"Keep quiet, Pop, and watch me," ordered Fred, and once more he rewrote the code while his companions watched him eagerly. This is what he wrote:

t-1-k-e-1-3-o-21-r-19-e-4-21-e-n-o-r-t-h-o-n-e-h-21-n-4-r-e-4-6-e-e-t- 6-r-o-13-t-h-e-19-o-31-t-h-e-r-n-e-24-t-r-e-13-t-25-o-6-19-h-1-r-k-r- o-e-k-t-h-e-n-e-1-19-t-6-9-6-t-25-6-e-e-t-1-n-4-n-o-r-t-h-2-25-e-1-19- t-t-h-9-r-t-25-t-h-r-e-e-4-9-7.

"You're getting rid of the numbers fast enough anyway," exclaimed George. "It looks like Greek to me though."

"Maybe it's written in some foreign language," suggested Fred. "Wouldn't that be awful?"

"Perhaps it's Finnish," said George. "We got it from a Finn."

"Dey's always ha'd luck," exclaimed Sam soberly. "Ef some Finn done wrote dat we don't stan' no chance ob eber findin' de treasah."

"You mean it will be our finish, is that it?" laughed George.

"Ah wouldn't be at all s'prised," said Sam solemnly.

"What makes you think it's not written in English?" demanded Grant.

"Well, just look along there in the middle," said George. "It says r-k-r-o, and then k-t-h-e-n-e. Did you ever hear of any words that sounded like that?"

"No, but towards the end it spells two words distinctly," protested Grant, "Just see there, n-o-r-t-h, and t-h-r-e-e. Certainly they spell north and three, don't they?"

"They do," admitted George. "That's what puzzles me. Part of it seems to be all right and part wrong. Are you sure your system is right?"

"Not yet, but I'm getting surer all the time. How about you, String?"

"I agree with you, Grant. We'll have it all in a minute."

"Maybe it's written in two languages," said Fred. "Sometimes they do a thing like that, you know, to make it all the harder."

"You're a cheerful soul," exclaimed Grant grimly. "If it's written in two languages we'll be about as badly off as we were before."

"And we shan't know whether we're right or not," added George.

"I say go ahead anyway the way we have been doing," exclaimed Fred. "We seem to be making some sort of progress."

"Tell us what letter corresponds to number one," said George.

"A," almost shouted John and Grant together.

"You seem to agree on that at any rate," laughed George. "Why don't you tell us what your system is?"

"I should think you'd have guessed it by this time," said Grant. "Why, it's just as simple as rolling off a log."

"Oh, yes, of course," said George sarcastically. "Everything is when you know all about it. I think you might let Fred and me into your secret."

"One stands for a," was Grant's reply. "Nineteen stands for s. That's all I'll tell you now. Go ahead and put those down if you want to."

"Write it down, Fred," said George sorrowfully. "My," he added under his breath, "I hate stingy people."

Again Fred wrote:—

t-a-k-e-a-3-o-21-r-s-e-4-21-e-n-o-r-t-h-o-n-e-h-21-n-4-r-e-4-6-e-e-t-6- r-o-13-t-h-e-s-o-21-t-h-e-r-n-e-24-t-r-e-13-9-t-25-o-6-s-h-a-r-k-o-3-k- t-h-e-n-e-a-s-t-6-9-6-t-25-6-e-e-t-a-n-4-n-e-r-t-h-2-25-e-a-s-t-t-h-9- r-t-25-t-h-r-e-e-4-9-7.

"Keep it up," urged George. "Let's not discuss it any more until it is all written out. Give him some more letters."

"Take u for twenty-one and f for six," said Grant.

"Give me three this time," said Fred. "There aren't many left."

"All right. Take i for nine."

Once more Fred wrote it out as follows:

t-a-k-e-a-3-o-u-r-s-e-4-u-e-n-o-r-t-h-o-n-e-h-u-n-4-r-e-4f-e-e-t-f-r-o -13-t-h-e-s-o-u-t-h-e-r-n-e-24-t-r-e-13-i-t-25-o-f-s-h-a-r-k-r-o-3-k-t- h-e-n-e-a-s-t-f-i-f-t-25-f-e-e-t-a-n-4-n-o-r-t-h-2-25-e-a-s-t-t-h-e-r- t-25-t-h-r-e-e-4-i-7.

"That's the way," cried George. "Give him some more. Clean it up this time."

"Let's see," said Grant musingly. "What numbers are left?"

"Three, four, thirteen, twenty-four, twenty-five, two and seven," said George. "I think that's all."

"All right," exclaimed Grant, "we'll finish it up. Go ahead, Fred, and in place of three put c, in place of four d, put m for thirteen, x for twenty-four, y for twenty-five, b for two, and let's see, g for seven. That ought to do it."

"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.



CHAPTER XXIV

SOLVED

"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 the Josephine complimenting 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; a is the first letter so we call it one, b is the second so we call that two, and so on all the way through. For instance, the letter s would be number nineteen, and t would 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 letter a. If number thirteen appeared we'd substitute the thirteenth letter in the alphabet in its place."

"Which would be m," 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 be a, b, c. Is that right?"

"Yes," said Grant, "and twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-six would be x, 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.



CHAPTER XXV

ON THE BEACH

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.



CHAPTER XXVI

THE SPOT IS MARKED

"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."



CHAPTER XXVII

CONCLUSION

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



The Outdoor Chums SERIES

By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

The Outdoor Chums On the Lake In the Forest On the Gulf After Big Game On A House Boat In the Big Woods At Cabin Point

For lovers of the great outdoors (and what boy is not?) this "Outdoor Chums" series will be a rare treat. After you have read the first book and followed the fortunes of the "Chums," you will realize the pleasure the other seven volumes have in store for you.

These rollicking lads know field, forest, mountain, sea and stream—and the books contain much valuable information on woodcraft and the living of an outdoor life.

The Goldsmith Publishing Co.

NEW YORK, N. Y.

THE END