That night the shipwrecked little band slept out in the open with nothing but the stars over their heads. In fact they had no other shelter, but the night was mild and clear and no one suffered any discomfort.

Thus far the boys had had no chance to explore their new home, but the first thing the next morning they determined to do so. A plunge in the waters of the little bay put every one in good humor. No one went very far out, however, for in spite of the fact that they knew there was slight chance of any shark venturing anywhere so near the shore, the knowledge that the giants were lurking not far away cured every desire to swim out any distance.

Sam decided he would not join the exploring party. He had an idea that he would be very much better off, dozing in the sun at the foot of some palm tree. The four boys separated, Fred and Grant going together, and John and George pairing off.

“You two go one way,” directed Grant, “and we’ll go the other. If we follow the shore we’ll meet around on the other side of the island somewhere.”

“All right,” agreed John. “We’ll see you later.”

“After we see what the shore of the island is like, I say we explore the interior,” said George, as he and John walked off down the beach.

“That’s what I say,” exclaimed John. “That part looks more interesting.”

“It does to me, too. There are lots of birds here.”

“Do you know the names of them?”

“No, I don’t. All I know is that they are certainly beautiful. Look at that one there,” exclaimed George suddenly, as there was a flash of scarlet showing for an instant among the trees to their left.

“I wonder if there are any parrots here.”

“Wouldn’t you like to have one?”

“I certainly would. I’d like to take it home with me.”

“If we ever get there.”

“Of course we’ll get there,” said John confidently. “Don’t worry about that for a second. It’s only a question of how soon it will be.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, String. We don’t know where we are and it certainly seems queer that we haven’t seen a single boat. That’s what worries me. If many boats went by this way, I wouldn’t worry, but if no boats come along, how are we to be picked up?”

“But some will come.”

“They haven’t yet.”

“It seems to me we ought to have a lookout,” said John. “A boat might go right by and we’d never see it at all.”

“I know it,” said George. “I think we ought to take turns up on top of the hill where the flag is.”

“I’m willing. We’ll talk about it to Grant and Fred, when we meet them.”

“Look at that rock,” exclaimed George suddenly.

“What’s the matter with it?”

“Look at its shape.”

“It is queer,” admitted John. “It looks like a fish.”

“Doesn’t it? Maybe it’s a petrified shark.”

“I guess not that,” laughed John. “Still it is shaped more like a shark than anything else, isn’t it? Isn’t it queer?”

The odd shaped rock made a great impression on the two boys, and it was a queer freak of nature. Black in color and about thirty feet long the great bowlder stood out as a remarkable evidence of nature’s handiwork. It lay in a small opening in the midst of a grove of palm trees. The two boys drew near to investigate more closely and were amazed at the smoothness of its surface and the way it glistened in the sunlight.

“This is certainly strange,” exclaimed George. “It looks as if it might have been under water for hundreds of years and was worn smooth this way by the waves.”

“It’s so different from the other rocks, too,” said John. “I wonder what made it black this way.”

“Do you notice,” remarked George, “that it doesn’t look so much like a shark when you are close to it? When we first saw it, it certainly did though.”

“Didn’t it? Let’s go back to that spot again.”

They retraced their steps and once more viewed the odd shaped rock from the place where they had first caught sight of it. More than ever were they impressed by its weird resemblance to a giant shark.

“We’ll certainly have to tell Grant and Fred about this,” said John. “We’ll bring them down here to look at it too.”

The two friends resumed their walk along the shore and before many moments had passed they caught sight of Fred and Grant.

“What do you think they’re looking at?” exclaimed George.

“I don’t know, Pop,” returned John. “They certainly seem interested in something though, don’t they?”

Fred and Grant were lying face downward on a rock which overhung the water. Their gaze and attention seemed riveted on what they saw below them, so that they did not even hear their friends approach.

“What are you two looking at?” demanded George curiously.

Grant looked up at the sound of his comrade’s voice but he did not answer. He merely beckoned with one finger and then pointed to the water below. John and George were not long in taking their places alongside the other two and soon they were just as engrossed in what they saw as were their companions.

The water was deep right up to the shore. It was also as clear as crystal so that everything in it could be seen with remarkable distinctness. Sand was mixed with coral on the bottom and the water was populated with fish, and such strange fish too. All sizes, shapes and colors they were; some almost flat with strange little pig-like mouths; others chunky and with flat backs as though some one had hammered them out. All of them, however, were wonderfully provided with marvelous coloring, some of them with shades that changed from time to time. A brilliant green ray, shaped like an eel, lay coiled about a piece of coral; he opened his mouth with its wicked looking teeth and sucked in the water which he could be seen to expel a moment later from his gills.

For a long time the four boys lay and watched these things in silence. It was like a fairy story to see all these strange inhabitants of the tropic seas.

“Whew,” sighed Fred at length, “that’s a wonderful sight.”

“I should say so,” exclaimed John heartily. “This is a wonderful island too. I am almost glad we were stranded here.”

“I’d be too,” said George, “if I was only certain we were going to get off all right.”

“Guess what Fred and I found this morning,” said Grant.

“It wasn’t any more wonderful than what Pop and I saw,” retorted John.

“What did you see?” demanded Grant.

“A rock that’s shaped just like a shark.”

“Huh,” snorted Fred. “That’s not half as good as what we found.”

“Tell us what it was then,” said George.

“Tracks,” said Grant.

“Tracks. What kind of tracks?”

“Can’t you guess?”

“Not railroad?” suggested George and he put up his arm as though he expected to have to ward off a blow.

“Don’t be silly, Pop,” exclaimed Grant. “Of course they weren’t.”

“Man tracks?” queried John.

“No,” said Fred. “They were goat tracks.”

“Is that right?” exclaimed George. “Did you see any goats?”

“No, but we saw a good many tracks.”

“I told you this was a wonderful island,” said John heartily. “You see we’ve even got a herd of goats here.”

“I don’t know what good they’ll do us though,” said Fred.

“Why not?” demanded John. “If we can catch one we can have it to eat.”

“That’s all right,” said Fred, “but how are you going to cook it without fire?”

“We’ll build one of course.”

“Without matches?”

“Pop has some matches. Haven’t you, Pop?” inquired John.

“Why, certainly,” said George with a great air of importance. “I have everything of that kind. Wasn’t I the fellow who had the compass too? I keep a diary and I have a compass and I have some matches in a waterproof box. Who says that I’m not a good man to have on any party?”

“Oh, you’re a fine fellow all right,” laughed Grant. “Personally I don’t know what good your compass will do us though. Your matches are all right and I advise you to be very careful with them.”

“Leave that to me,” said George. “I’ll be careful all right.”

“Who’s going to catch these goats?” demanded Fred.

“We haven’t gotten as far as that yet,” said Grant laughingly. “I guess we’ll have to put salt on their tails.”

“Not at all,” exclaimed John seriously. “We’ll make spears and get them that way. To-morrow we’ll have a goat hunt.”

“Maybe we will,” said George skeptically. “Just at present though, I say we do a little more exploring. We haven’t seen much of the interior of the island yet.”

“Come along then,” cried Grant. “We’ll all go.”

With Grant in the lead, they started. Every moment added to the new delights the little island afforded. The tropical foliage was brilliant and the bird-life seemed endless in its variety. The sides of the small hill which the exploring party was ascending, however, were rocky and when they were about halfway up, Grant suddenly stopped short in surprise.

“Look there,” he exclaimed. “There’s a cave.”

A dark opening in the rocks showed just ahead and there was a mad race to see which boy should arrive at the spot first. It was a steep ascent, but just in front of the cave was a flat ledge of rocks some ten or fifteen feet wide which made a sort of front yard.

Grant was the first to reach the entrance and even before he looked into the cave he stopped and picked up two objects from the ground at his feet.

“What have you got?” demanded John.

Grant held the two articles in question up to view. “An old flint-lock pistol and a powder-horn,” he said.

“Say,” exclaimed George, “where do you suppose they came from?”

“Somebody dropped them here, I suppose,” said Grant dryly.

“Of course,” said George, ignoring his friend’s sarcasm, “but who was it? It must have been a long time ago though. See how that pistol is all rusted and eaten away. I don’t believe they’ve used that kind of a pistol in two hundred years, either.”

“Well, John said this island looked like a good one for pirates,” remarked Fred. “Maybe pirates left these things here.”

“Do you suppose so?” exclaimed George eagerly. “If there were pirates here do you think they could have buried any treasure on the island?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” laughed Grant. “Even if they did, I don’t see just how it would do us any good.”

“Can’t we look for it?” demanded George.

“Where shall we look?”

“Maybe they left directions as to where it was buried.”

“Say,” exclaimed John, “speaking of directions, what happened to that code we were looking at on board the Josephine? I suppose it burned up with the ship.”

“Oh, no it didn’t,” said Grant. “It went right into my hip pocket and that’s where it has been ever since and where it is right now.”

“Why don’t you decipher it, Grant?” said Fred.

“Oh, yes,” said Grant grimly, “why don’t I? It’s so easy you know.”

“Well, it can be done,” insisted Fred firmly.

“Of course it can,” laughed George. “The only trouble is we don’t know how.”

“We don’t even know it is a code,” said Grant.

“Petersen said it was,” Fred objected.

“I know it,” said Grant, “but he wasn’t sure of it. That was only his opinion.”

“Didn’t the water and everything hurt it?” asked George.

“Not a bit. Here it is; you can see for yourself,” and Grant produced the piece of parchment from his pocket. He unfolded it while his three companions crowded eagerly around him to inspect the strange document once again. No light was thrown on its secret, if it had one, however, and the same baffling maze of numbers confronted the boys.

“Put it away,” cried John impatiently. “I think it’s a combination to a safe.”

“No, it isn’t either,” said Fred. “It’s a code I tell you and I think that some one of us ought to be able to read it.”

“What good would it do if you did?” demanded John. “Certainly it can’t apply to this island, and I say we forget it and inspect this cave now. That is much more to the point.”

“Put it away, Grant,” said Fred. “To-morrow though, I’m going to get to work on it and see if I can’t make something out of it.”

“I’ll help you,” said Grant.

“That’s the way,” cried Fred enthusiastically. “Grant and I will find the money and Pop and String won’t get a cent.”

“Is that so?” exclaimed George. “Well, if you can find any money and not give me my share you’re a much better man than I think you are.”

“Let’s not fight about the money just now,” advised Grant. “We haven’t found it yet, you know.”

“I know it,” exclaimed John. “I never heard such a lot of crazy talk before either. Who’s coming into the cave?”

The entrance was about ten feet wide and was high enough so that even John could walk in without stooping. Far down towards the back of the cave a patch of light shone on the floor showing that somewhere else besides the spot where the boys stood, there was an opening.

“I can’t see very well,” said Fred as they stepped into the cave.

“Neither can I,” George agreed. “I’m not very anxious to go walking around in strange dark caves either.”

“What can hurt you?” demanded John. “There isn’t another soul on the island besides ourselves and Sam.”

“That may be,” admitted George. “Still there may be holes in the floor or some kind of animals living here.”

“Well, I’m going down to where that spot of light is,” said John. “Is any one coming with me?”

“Oh, I’ll go all right,” exclaimed George quickly. “All I said was that I didn’t like it much.”

“Go slow,” cautioned Grant. “We don’t want to run any risks.”

“I can see better now than I could,” said John who was in the lead. “My eyes are becoming more used to the dim light.”

“So are mine,” said Fred. “The floor looks perfectly flat to me too, and I think I see a box or something up ahead there.”

“I guess you do,” John agreed. “I see something myself.”

They proceeded cautiously on their way until they came to the box in question.

“It’s a chest,” exclaimed John, bending over. “It’s iron, too,” and he gave it a kick. The clang of the metal echoed and reëchoed through the cave producing a weird sound and sending the shivers coursing up and down the spines of the boys.

“It sounds hollow,” said Grant in a low voice.

“I guess it is,” John agreed.

“Lift it and see,” directed George. “Aren’t there any handles on it?”

John felt around the sides of the chest and finally discovered that there was a handle on one end. He pulled and lifted with all his might, but not one inch could he budge it.

“Whew, there must be something in it,” he panted. “It’s certainly heavy enough.”

“It’s probably full of gold,” exclaimed George excitedly. “Gold is awfully heavy.”

“Calm yourself, Pop,” said Grant, but he too, was excited. In fact, the strange cave and the chest suggested all sorts of things to the four youths. What if they should find that the chest was full of money? Stranger things than that have happened.

“It certainly sounded hollow in spite of all you say,” remarked Fred. “See if all four of us can’t get hold and move it.” He kicked it once more and again the weird sound rang through the cave.

“Don’t do that, Fred,” begged George. “It gives me the shivers.”

“Get hold here then,” exclaimed Fred.

The combined efforts of the four boys did not even slightly move the great chest. It was an awkward thing to handle, however, as well as very heavy.

“Perhaps it is empty after all,” remarked Grant, as they all paused to regain their breath. “A chest as big as that would weigh a lot all alone.”

“Maybe,” admitted Fred. “At any rate I say we get it out on the ledge in front there where we can have a good look at it.”

“That’s the idea,” exclaimed George. “We can get it there if we all help. Everybody get to work here now!”

Pushing and hauling, grunting and groaning the young castaways bent to their task. Little by little the great iron chest was moved closer and closer to the entrance of the cave. The sweat poured from the boys in streams and their arms and their backs ached. They would not give up, however. The lure of treasure had them in its grasp and they were determined to find out just what the contents of this chest were if such a thing were possible.

“Just a little more,” urged Grant, and with one final effort the chest was pushed out onto the ledge of rock in front of the cave.

For a few moments the boys were too exhausted to do more than stand around puffing and gasping for breath. Such a task, combined with the heat of the tropics, would tax the strength and endurance of the hardiest.

“Now let’s open it up,” exclaimed Fred. “Where’s the top?”

“It’s over on its side,” said Grant. “Here’s the top and it’s padlocked.”

“So it is,” said Fred disappointedly. “What can we do?”

“Get a rock,” directed Grant. “It’s pretty well rusted and by hammering it we may be able to break it.”

A suitable rock was quickly found and an attack begun on the padlock. Grant pounded away for dear life, while the others stood around and watched him. After a few moments he stopped to inspect the result of his efforts.

“Think you can do it?” inquired John.

“I don’t know,” said Grant. “I think I made a little impression on it, but it’ll take some time.”

“Well, I’m going back into the cave,” announced John. “I’m going to inspect that patch of light back there. When you get the box open, yell at me.”

He disappeared in the dusk of the cave while his three companions took turns at hammering the lock. It was stubborn, but was beginning to show some signs of yielding and the boys stuck manfully to their task. They seemed to be on the verge of succeeding when a great commotion inside the cave suddenly arrested their attention.

A moment later John burst forth. His face was ashen and his eyes bulged wide with fear. His hands shook as if he had the ague and his breath was almost gone.

“What is it, John?” demanded Grant in alarm, while Fred and George also crowded around the frightened boy. He had evidently received a terrible shock of some kind and his three companions were greatly affected by his appearance.

“What’s the matter?” exclaimed Grant anxiously, but all that John could do was to mumble incoherently and point towards the interior of the cave.

“John!” begged Grant. “Tell us what’s the matter.”

John, however, was in no condition to say anything. He shivered and shook, and kept glancing fearfully at the entrance to the cave as though he expected some great ogre or dragon to emerge any moment.

“Watch that cave, Pop,” directed Grant. “Perhaps we’d better get out of here.”

“Can’t you talk, John?” exclaimed Fred. “Tell us what the trouble is.”

John gulped and swallowed hard a couple of times. He pointed towards the cave and his lips moved, but no sound that resembled a word came from his ashen-colored lips.

“Come on, John,” coaxed Fred. “You’re all right. Tell us about it.”

John made another great effort. “That man,” he managed to gasp.

“‘Man’!” cried Grant. “What man?”

“I saw a man,” said John and then he fainted.

“This is a mess,” exclaimed Grant in dismay. “What shall we do?”

“He saw a man,” said Fred in alarm. “Who could it be?”

“How do I know?” said Grant testily. “Are you watching that cave, Pop?”

“I certainly am. Hand me one of those rocks.”

The three boys stood on the narrow ledge of rocks in a quandary as to what course they should pursue. Below them was the steep, rocky incline of the hill and behind them was the cave containing they knew not what. At their feet lay their comrade, unconscious and helpless. It was a situation that would have worried the oldest and most hardened adventurer.

“We’ve got to get John away from here,” said Grant at last.

“We can’t do it,” objected Fred. “We can’t carry him down this hill.”

“But suppose we’re attacked,” said Grant dolefully.

“We’ll have to run that risk.”

“I’m going into the cave,” George announced suddenly.

“Pop!” cried Grant in alarm. “You stay where you are.”

“Why not go in and clear up the mystery right now?” said George. “We might just as well.”

“You’re crazy,” exclaimed Fred. “Don’t think of such a thing.”

“Nothing hurt John,” said George soberly.

“Yes,” cried Grant, “but look at him now. He was scared almost to death!”

The three boys gazed apprehensively at the entrance of the cave. They all had rocks in their hands now and were ready to let them fly the moment the man John had seen should show his head. Nothing appeared, however.

After a moment John stirred and opened his eyes. He looked about him in a puzzled way as though he did not know where he was. Then he evidently remembered his experience for he shuddered and cast a terror-stricken glance at the dark entrance of the cave.

“I saw a man,” he repeated in a low voice.

“What kind of a man? Who was it?” demanded Grant eagerly. “Keep your eye on that cave, Pop,” he added grimly.

“Tell us what happened,” urged Fred.

John was much more composed now and had better control of himself.

“I went into the cave,” he began. “I walked along and didn’t see a thing. I was beginning to think that that chest was the only thing there and I kept thinking what a strange thing it was. I had gone in to find out where that patch of light came from you know, so when I came to it I looked up.” John stopped speaking.

“What then?” demanded Grant in a tense voice.

“I saw a man,” said John, and he shivered violently.

“Yes,” urged Grant. “What kind of a man did you see?”

“An old man with white hair and a long white beard.”

“What did he do?”

“He was looking in the other end of the opening. I just took one look at him and ran.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t wait for anything.”

“Was he alone?”

“I think so,” said John. “At least I saw only one. I suppose I am a coward to be so frightened by an old man like that, but it was so unexpected. The opening was narrow like a chimney-flue and it gave me such a start to see some one at the other end.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” said Grant grimly. “It would have scared me too.”

John scrambled to his feet. “Let’s go back in and see if he’s still there. I’m ashamed of the way I acted and I want to make up for it.”

“That’s what I say,” exclaimed George. “Clear up this business. One old man can’t hurt us very much.”

“Unless he has a gun,” said Fred.

“That’s true,” agreed George. “I never thought of that.”

“Not much chance of his having a gun, I guess,” said Grant. “I’ll risk it anyway if the rest will.”

“Maybe it was Sam you saw,” said Fred suddenly.

“With white hair and a white beard? I guess not,” laughed George grimly.

“He might have been playing a joke on us,” suggested Fred.

“If he was, he’ll never live to tell the tale,” cried John fiercely.

“If that fellow was looking through the top of that opening, he won’t be in the cave,” said Grant suddenly. “Why don’t we look for him on top of the hill?”

“That’s true,” agreed George. “Can we get up from here?”

The four boys looked up to see what kind of a climb it would be. Suddenly, Fred burst out laughing. His companions turned and looked at him in amazement. He laughed and laughed until the tears came to his eyes.

“What’s struck you, Fred?” demanded George angrily.

“Oh, John,” gasped Fred, when he could get his breath. “You poor simpleton.”

“What are you talking about?” exclaimed John in surprise.

“Did you see an old man with white hair and a long beard?”

“Of course I did. That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

“Well, there he is,” and once more Fred became convulsed with merriment.

His three companions looked in the direction he had indicated. At the brow of the hill, alongside a large rock, and gazing curiously down at them stood an old billy goat. His white beard gave him a most odd appearance.

“Is that the old man you saw?” demanded Grant, turning toward John. One glance at his companion, however, was enough to give him his answer. A foolish expression spread itself over John’s face and he became very red and embarrassed. He mumbled something under his breath, but no one could make out what it was that he said.

“Well, String,” cried George, “you certainly put your foot in it that time. I guess you’ll never hear the end of it either. You surely won’t if I have anything to say about it. An old man with a white beard. Baa!” and George imitated a goat and he too gave vent to uncontrollable laughter.

“There was a goat at each end of the opening, wasn’t there, Pop?” inquired Grant mischievously.

“There sure was,” George agreed. “The big one was at the bottom.”

Fred, Grant, and George laughed and then laughed some more. They slapped John on the back and twitted him repeatedly about the false alarm he had given. They enjoyed themselves immensely at their friend’s expense. He, however, was very much ashamed and very unhappy.

“I admit I was the goat,” he said sadly. “I don’t know what got into me, but it was such a shock to see that funny looking face staring in at the other end of that opening. It scared the life out of me.”

“I should say it did,” chuckled George. “You scared us, too.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” John apologized. “I’ll do anything I can to make up.”

“What shall we have him do?” exclaimed Fred eagerly. “It ought to be something pretty bad.”

“Make him open that chest,” Grant suggested.

“That’s a good scheme,” said George. “Here’s a big rock for you, String. Hit it a few cracks and see if you are better at this than at exploring caves.”

John approached the chest, rock in hand. The lock had already been bent considerably by the other boys’ efforts, but it still held fast. John attacked it fiercely and after breaking several stones succeeded in demolishing the lock.

“Yea, String!” cried George, excitedly. “You’re a wonder. Open it up! Quick!”

The padlock was removed and all four boys crowded around and eagerly grasped the top. It was not so easy to open, however, but finally it was done. Every boy’s eyes glistened expectantly as the top was raised. The least they expected to see was a great pile of gold, but no such sight presented itself.

“It’s empty,” cried Grant. His voice sounded as if he had lost his last friend on earth.

“There’s a piece of paper in there,” corrected Fred. “Let’s see if that says anything.”

Keen disappointment showed on the face of every boy. Their hopes had been dashed. There was no special reason why they should have expected to find such a treasure-chest as they had pictured this one to be, but this idea had fixed itself in their minds and they really counted on all being made rich the moment they opened it up.

“What does the paper say, Fred?” inquired Grant listlessly. Most of his interest had faded.

“I don’t know,” said Fred carelessly. “It’s nothing but a bunch of mixed up numbers. Say,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Let me see that code in your pocket.”

“What do you want that for?” inquired Grant curiously, at the same time producing the article in question and handing it over to Fred.

Fred grasped it and quickly spread it open. Holding the one he had found in the chest alongside the other he ran his eye hurriedly over the two. Then he turned to his three companions, who were watching him curiously.

“Do you know that these two papers are exactly alike?” he demanded excitedly.

“Alike?” cried Grant in amazement. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said,” returned Fred. “The numbers on these two papers are exactly the same from start to finish.”

“That’s the strangest thing I ever heard of in my life,” exclaimed Grant. “Let me look at them.”

“Didn’t I tell you fellows that that piece of parchment Petersen had was a code of some sort?” demanded Fred.

“Does the fact that we found one like it prove that?” said George skeptically.

“It certainly seems so to me,” Fred exclaimed. “At any rate, it is a very odd coincidence.”

“It’s that all right,” admitted George. “Are they exactly alike, Grant?”

“They seem to be,” replied Grant, who had been carefully studying the two papers.

“We can soon find out, anyway,” said John. “Let me have one of them and I’ll read it aloud. One of you fellows can watch the other and check up the numbers.”

“That’s a good scheme,” Grant agreed. “Here, String, you take this one and I’ll keep my eye on the numbers on the other as you call them off.”

“All ready?” said John.

“Go ahead,” and this is what John read:

“20-1-11-5-1-3-15-21-18-19-5-4-21-5-14-15-18-20-8-15-14-15-18-21-14-4-18-5-4-6-5-5-20-6-18-15-13-20-8-5-19-15-21-20-8-5-18-14-5-24-20-18-5-13-9-20-25-15-6-19-8-1-18-11-18-15-3-11-20-8-5-14-5-1-19-20-6-9-6-20-25-6-20-25-6-5-5-20-1-14-4-14-15-18-20-8-2-25-5-1-19-20-20-8-9-18-20-25-20-8-18-5-5-4-9-7.”

“Exactly the same,” announced Grant when John had finished. “Now what do you think about that?”

“I believe it’s a code which tells where some pirates have buried treasure,” announced Fred decidedly. “I also believe that this is the island where it was done. How else do you account for our finding that duplicate in the chest here?”

“It’s strange all right,” said George. “I can explain it all in a different way, though.”

“What’s that?” asked Grant curiously.

“Just this. Suppose all those numbers do make up a code and that they do give the key to some treasure or something. Isn’t it possible that the treasure was once in this empty chest, and some one found it and took it away? Evidently there were at least two people in the secret, as the two codes show. One of them got here first and took it away and as long as he had no more use for the code he left it. Doesn’t that sound reasonable?”

“Yes, it does,” Fred admitted. “It’s not very cheerful, though, and I hope you are wrong about it.”

“I hope so, too,” exclaimed George heartily. “It’s just as well to look at both sides, though.”

“I don’t believe your idea is right, Pop,” said Grant.

“Why not?”

“Petersen got this code from his father, didn’t he? Well, if his father and the men he was with buried that treasure on this island it seems strange that this old powder-horn and flint-lock pistol should be here. Such things as that were used a good many years before Petersen’s father was alive.”

“Who said his father was the one who buried the treasure?”

“I thought that was what some one said back there on the Josephine.”

“No, indeed. They said Petersen’s father had the code, but I never heard that he was one of those who were supposed to have buried the treasure.”

“At any rate,” put in George, “no matter who buried it, it doesn’t say that my theory is wrong. The pistol and the powder-horn may have been in the chest along with the treasure. Whoever found it thought they weren’t worth taking, so they were just thrown to one side.”

“Why was the chest locked again?” asked John.

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” laughed Grant. “I give up.”

“Not at all,” exclaimed Fred. “Don’t say that. We can at least try to make out this code. That will give us something to do and I guess we are going to have plenty of time on our hands before we get away from here.” As he finished speaking he turned to scan the horizon, but nothing was in sight save the endless expanse of ocean. As far as appearances went they might have been alone in the world. The occasional note of a bird and the soft murmur of the waves as they caressed the beach below were the only sounds to be heard.

“Yes, I guess we will,” said Grant. “As you say, we can at least try to decipher it.”

“I’m no good at such things,” exclaimed George. “I don’t believe I ever worked out a puzzle in all my life.”

“That doesn’t say you can’t do this, though, does it?” demanded Grant.

“Oh, no. Perhaps I’ll get an idea some day and work the whole thing out for you.”

“I have an idea right now,” said John.

“Better tell us what it is, quick,” urged George. “You may lose it.”

“I am not like some other people I know,” said John loftily.

To this remark George made no intelligible answer, though he muttered something under his breath. “I’m glad of it,” was what two of his companions made out his reply to be.

“What’s your idea, String?” asked Grant.

“I say to take possession of this cave and live here.”

“That’s a good scheme,” exclaimed Fred heartily. “Let’s go and get our few belongings just as soon as we can and bring them up here.”

“A fine idea,” agreed George. “String, I didn’t think you knew so much.”

“That proves that you know very little yourself, then,” replied John scornfully.

“Ha, ha. Good one, String,” cried Fred laughingly. “Give him another.”

“He is not worth bothering about,” said John. “Let’s get our things.”

Down the side of the hill they scrambled, slipping and sliding down the steep decline. They came to the bottom in safety, however, and it was not long before they reached the spot where the baggage had been left.

“Where’s Sam?” exclaimed Grant. “He certainly can’t be sleeping still.”

“There he is,” said Fred, pointing down the beach.

“What’s he got in his hand?” said George curiously. “It looks like a knife.”

“Where could he get a knife?” exclaimed John. “Just as I told you a few minutes ago, Pop, you’ve certainly got something missing in that head of yours.”

“I thought maybe he’d gone around to the hardware store and bought it,” drawled George soberly with a wink at Grant. He loved to stir up his companions, and none of them more so than his tall friend, John, who almost invariably rose to any bait he might happen to offer.

“What have you got there, Sam?” called Fred when the negro was within earshot.

Sam merely grinned and waved the object he held in his hand to the boys.

“As I said before it certainly looks like a knife,” murmured George.

“What is that, Sam?” asked Fred again when Sam had come up to the spot where the four boys were standing.

“Ah’s makin’ a knife,” said Sam proudly.

“Where did you get the steel?”

“Dat ain’t steel,” grinned Sam. “Dat am one o’ dem iron hoops off o’ dat dere bar’el o’ water. Ah is gwine sharpen her up and den we’ll hab a sho’ nuff knife.”

“I’m afraid it’ll never cut much,” laughed John. “No knife with a blade made of iron is apt to be much good. It’ll be all right to dig holes in the ground with, though.”

“Wait ’til she’s sharpened,” warned Sam.

“How are you going to sharpen it?” asked Grant curiously.

“On a big black rock Ah done discovah roun’ dat dere point.”

“The rock that looks like a shark,” exclaimed George. “That ought to be a good one, for it certainly seemed hard enough.”

“Dat rock look lak a shark, yo’ say?” remarked Sam suddenly.

“Yes,” said George. “Didn’t you think so?”

“Now dat Ah comes to think on it, it sho’ did,” said Sam. “Ah wondahs if dis yere can be de island.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Fred eagerly. “What island?”

“Well,” said Sam, “evah sence Ah done commence to foller de sea Ah has heard tales of some island where dey is treasah buried. Dat island was said to hab a big rock on it what done look lak a shark. Mebbe this am de one.”

“Where was this island?” asked George eagerly.

“No one ebber knew,” said Sam. “All Ah knows is dat on dis island dey said dere was all so’ts ob treasah. Yo’ could tell de pahtikelah island by its habbin’ a big rock on it what done look lak a shark. Dat’s all Ah knows.”

“Did you ever meet any one who had seen the island?” inquired Grant.

“Nebber,” replied Sam. “Some say dat de island done disappeah or dat de ocean had swallowed ’er up. Dese was all stories Ah heard.”

“Well!” exclaimed Fred, his eyes shining with excitement. “I certainly am in favor of finding out what those codes mean. Perhaps we’ll find something on this island after all. I’ll bet this is the one Sam has heard about all right.”

“Seems so, doesn’t it?” agreed Grant. “We may get rich yet.”

“The treasure was in that chest up there in the cave, I tell you,” said George. “Some one has been here and taken it away.”

“Not at all,” cried Fred. “At any rate there’s more of it here. Didn’t you hear Sam say that he has heard about this island for years and years?”

“You’re not sure this is the one.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure there aren’t two islands with rocks on them like that,” exclaimed Fred. “A rock shaped just like a shark is so unusual that you see they identify the island by it.”

“But why has no one ever found it?”

“You just said they had,” Grant reminded him. “You also said that the treasure was gone. You are contradicting yourself.”

“Well, you’d think some one would find it,” exclaimed George. “An island as big as this one couldn’t very well be overlooked if any one came near it at all.”

“Apparently no one does come near it,” said Fred. “How many boats have we seen since the Josephine burned?”

“Not one,” said Grant.

“Why is it?” demanded Fred. “In this day and age, when the ocean is so covered with ships, you’d certainly think we’d see at least one.”

“We never even saw any of the other lifeboats,” said John.

“That’s true,” Fred exclaimed. “How do you account for it?”

“I don’t,” said Grant. “It’s a strange thing all around.”

“Well, if we’re going to be stranded here for a few years we might just as well spend part of the time looking for the treasure,” said Fred. “Everything seems to point to the fact that there is some here. That cave and the chest and the two codes and the queer rock that fits in so well with what Sam has heard, everything about it sounds like treasure and lots of it.”

“If we could only be the ones to find it,” sighed John. “Just think of going home rich; rich with pearls and diamonds and emeralds and gold doubloons and bars of gold all dug up from some old pirate’s hiding place. If we only could!”

“Perhaps we can,” exclaimed Fred, much thrilled by John’s description of the wealth that might be theirs. “My opinion is that we must translate those codes first, though. Wouldn’t it be awful if they didn’t apply to this island after all.”

“But they do,” insisted Grant. “I know they do.”

“And I think so, too,” exclaimed John. “Let’s go to work.”

Days passed and weeks rolled by. The four friends and their colored companion still remained on the mysterious island. The flag still flew from the hill and all day long one or another of the boys kept a lookout from a spot near by. No boat came to rescue them, however, and the little party of castaways had almost come to believe that the rest of their days were to be spent on this little island somewhere in an unknown sea.

Once John on watch had seen smoke. Far off on the horizon appeared a smudge from the funnels of some passing steamer. It was too far away however to discover their signal or even to see their island. He had watched it hopefully until it finally disappeared over the rim of the ocean. That was the only sign of a vessel that had been sighted so far.

However, the boys were not in want. Their clothes were becoming ragged and their hair unkempt, but they were well fed and healthy. If it had not been for the fact that they knew they could not leave they might have been measurably contented. They were now living in the cave as snug and comfortable as could be desired. The fact that they were short of clothes did not bother them, either, for the weather was warm and clothes were more of a burden than a necessity.

As yet they had discovered no treasure. Hour after hour they had puzzled over the mysterious numbers on the parchment, but as yet no one had been able to solve their riddle.

“It makes me mad,” said John one day. “I sit and stare at those crazy figures until it seems as if I must go crazy myself. I never get even a clew as to what they mean, but at the same time the more I study them the more sure I am that they have a meaning.”

“And I, too,” agreed Grant. “I know they mean something. I’m sure of it.”

“Until we discover what it is we are practically helpless,” said John. “We can’t dig up the whole island looking for buried gold, you know. We must have directions.”

“I certainly would laugh,” exclaimed George, “if some one did find out what those figures mean and then we discovered that it didn’t apply to this island at all.”

“What would be so funny in that?” demanded Fred.

“Think how you’d all be fooled.”

“Yes, and you’d be just as badly off as any of us,” said Fred. “If we don’t find any money, you won’t get anything any more than we will.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like money,” said John. “He seems sort of hopeful that we won’t find any.”

“You’ve got to prove to me that you are going to find any first,” said George. “A set of funny looking numbers and a queer looking rock that Sam says he remembers hearing about and a cave with an empty chest in it doesn’t necessarily mean money, in my opinion.”

“Dey does in mine,” exclaimed Sam, rolling his eyes rapturously towards heaven. “Ef we only could find dat treasah Ah sho’ would show dem fresh coons back dar in Richmond a thing or two. Oh, Lawdy!” and Sam executed a few steps of a clog dance just to show his delight at the mere thought.

“What would you do if you had a lot of money, Sam?” asked Grant smilingly.

“Well,” began the enthusiastic darky, “de berry fust thing dat Ah would do would be to buy mahself de grandes’ lookin’ suit ob clothes yo’ ebber did see.”

“What kind of a suit?” inquired Grant.

“A checked suit,” said Sam. “A checked suit wif black an’ white checks as big as a postage stamp. Den Ah would get mahself some ob dem dare patent leather shoes. Den,” and Sam drew in his breath luxuriously, “Ah would purchase a bran’ span red necktie an’ square in de middle ob dat Ah would place de bigges’ an’ de grandes’ diamon’ ho’shoe yo’ ebber set yo’ eyes upon.”

“Is that all you’d buy?” laughed George.

Sam gave him a scornful look. “No, indeedy,” he maintained stoutly. “Nex’ Ah would buy one o’ dem high shiny hats and den a cane, den a pair of dem yaller gloves, an’ say, mebbe dem niggahs back home wouldn’ be jealous ob Samuel.”

“I guess they would, all right,” exclaimed Grant, much entertained by Sam’s description of the way he would spend his money. “Wouldn’t you buy anything but clothes, though?”

“Ob co’se Ah would,” said Sam. “Not at de fust, though. Ah’d jest get mah new clothes on an’ den walk down de street so’t ob cahless like an’ in two minutes yo’ gwine see ebbery wench in town jes’ a follerin’ me. Oh, say, golly, mebbe dem niggahs wouldn’t be jealous!” and Sam laughed aloud, the thought was so pleasant for him to contemplate.

“Well, I hope you get it, Sam,” said Fred heartily. “If you get it we all do.”

“Except Pop,” added Fred.

“Why not me?” demanded George in an aggrieved tone. “Why don’t I get any?”

“Because you don’t think there’s anything here worth taking,” said Fred. “You keep making fun of us all the time and telling us there is no treasure on the island. If you aren’t interested enough to do some work it seems only natural that you won’t want any of the treasure.”

“Why, you little shrimp,” exclaimed George, pretending to be very angry and glowering down upon his stubby companion, “don’t you know that I have been joshing you fellows all this time? If there’s anything here worth working for you can be dead sure I’m willing to do my share. All I say is that you prove it to me first.”

“Why should we prove it to you?” inquired Grant. “Why don’t you get to work and help us prove it to ourselves? After we have found where the stuff is any one can go and get it. What we want to know is the spot where it’s hidden.”

“Quite true,” George admitted. “At the same time you must admit that you are all taking a great deal for granted. You seem to think that there is no doubt about there being treasure on the island and also that this code when deciphered will tell you just where it is.”

“We hope that’s the case,” said Grant. “Of course we can’t tell until we’ve found out what the code says. That’s what we’re trying to do now.”

“You’re right,” agreed George. “We must get to work on it at once.”

“We’ve been at work on it ever since we struck this island,” said Fred warmly. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, when I get down to business we’ll soon solve the riddle,” said George pompously. “I’ll soon get an idea.”

“Hit him, Grant,” cried John. “You’re nearest to him and we ought not to let such things live.”

George burst out laughing. “Forget those old numbers for a while,” he advised. “So far no one has been able to do anything with them, but if we let them alone for a few days we can go back to them with our minds fresh. Who knows, somebody might get an idea all of a sudden that would solve the whole business.”

“I wish somebody would,” sighed Fred.

“Think of this, though,” exclaimed Grant. “Suppose we do forget it all for a few days, as Pop suggests. In the meantime a boat might come along and take us away and our chance of ever finding the treasure would be gone.”

“That’s right, Grant,” cried John. “We don’t want to lose an opportunity like this.”

“Can’t we take the code home with us?” said George. “We have all the rest of our lives to find out what it means and if it is worth while we can always come back.”

“How can we tell whether it is worth while or not until we see it?” asked Fred.

“Probably that code contains a description of what it is.”

“Perhaps it does,” said Grant. “We’ll know better when we find out just what it does say. I’m in favor of keeping right at it.”

“So am I, Grant,” exclaimed John. “Don’t let it rest for a second.”

“Dat’s de boy!” cried Sam heartily. “Ah get dat diamon’ ho’shoe yet.”

“Yes, and I hope you get a big automobile to go with it, Sam,” said Grant.

“Ah hopes so mahself,” grinned Sam. “Say, wouldn’t dat be gran’?”

“We’ll all have them,” said John. “We’ll have motor-boats and yachts, too, and maybe flying-machines.”

“Stick a pin in that fellow, Fred,” urged George. “He’s asleep.”

“Is that so?” exclaimed John. “At any rate, it’s cheap enough to dream.”

“That’s true,” laughed George. “Go ahead and dream if you like.”

“Some one of us ought to be able to read that code,” said Grant. “Why should a lot of figures get the better of us? We ought not to let them.”

“Maybe the numbers mean letters,” George suggested.

“We’ve all thought that ourselves,” said Grant grimly. “Just what letters, though?”

“Let me see the thing,” exclaimed George. “What number occurs oftenest?”

“I don’t know,” mused Grant, looking over his shoulder. “I guess five does.”

“All right then,” said George quickly; “now what is the commonest letter in the alphabet?”

“I thought of that, too,” said Grant. “The trouble is that none of us know.”

“That might be an idea, though.”

“Yes,” admitted John, “but if we don’t know those things I don’t see how we can get very far.”

“Nor I,” said George. “We might try some experiments, though.”

“Go ahead,” urged Grant. “Try everything you can think of. We’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain. No matter how silly an idea may seem to you, try it. That’s the only way we can ever get anywhere.”

“Right you are, Grant!” exclaimed Fred. “That’s the way to talk. If we stick to it, I know we’ll find out all about it some day.”

“Perhaps we will ‘some day,’” said George mournfully.

One day John was standing at the back of the cave looking up through the opening which was there. Here it was that the billy goat had given him such a fright a few weeks before. This time, however, he did not see any “white bearded old man” as he gazed up into the aperture, but he did spy something almost equally interesting.

“Hey, Fred!” he called. “Come here a minute.”

Fred hastened to respond to his friend’s summons and soon reached the spot where John was standing.

“What do you want, String?” he inquired.

“Look up through that opening.”

“All right,” said Fred, doing as he had been directed. “I’m looking.”

“Don’t you see anything?”

“Sure I do. I see the sky.”

“Don’t be silly, Fred,” exclaimed John. “In the opening, I mean.”

“I see dirt.”

“Is that all?”

“Absolutely. What are you trying to do, anyway?”

“About three feet this side of the other end; don’t you see something sticking out?”

Fred squinted one eye and peered upward critically.

“Don’t you see a thing?” demanded John eagerly.

“Maybe I do,” replied Fred. “Is something sticking out up there?”

“That’s just what I thought. What is it?”

“It looks like the end of a box.”

“Just what I thought myself,” exclaimed John triumphantly. “Let’s get it.”

“We can’t reach it from this end.”

“I know it. We’ll have to climb up on top of the hill.”

“Come on,” urged Fred, now also keenly excited.

Outside the cave, Grant sat puzzling over the numbers. Most of his time he now spent in this way, and though he was apparently no nearer a solution than when he had started, his determination was stronger than ever.

“Where are you two fellows going?” he demanded as John and Fred rushed past the spot where he was seated.

“Just up on top of the hill,” said John evasively. He and Fred had decided not to tell any of the others of their discovery until they had investigated it thoroughly themselves.

“You seem to be in an awful hurry,” remarked Grant. “What’s up?”

“Tell you later,” answered John, and they quickly passed out of Grant’s sight. A moment more and they had arrived at the top of the opening which led down into the cave.

“I can’t see anything from here,” exclaimed John, after a hasty examination. “The shadow of my head gets right in the way and I can’t see a thing.”

“Let me look,” urged Fred, but he could make out nothing either.

“I tell you what to do,” he exclaimed a moment later. “Hang onto my feet so I won’t fall and get wedged in there, and then lower me into the hole.”

“That’s a good scheme,” said John eagerly. “You’re little and skinny and ought to be able to get in there all right.”

“Never mind the ‘little and skinny’ part,” said Fred shortly. “You hold onto my feet.”

Anyone who might have passed by that way and seen John holding fast to a pair of legs sticking out of a hole in the ground would have been puzzled as to what was taking place. Grant’s curiosity had been aroused by the strange actions of his two friends and he had followed them. Imagine his surprise to see what John and Fred were doing, but he said nothing. He stood quietly near by and neither of his comrades was aware of his presence.

“Can you see anything, Fred?” called John.

“Not a thing,” came back the muffled reply. “I can feel something, though.”

“Is it a box?”

“I can’t tell, I think it is.”

“Can you move it?”

“I should say not. It’s stuck fast.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Pull me out and I’ll tell you.”

A moment later Fred emerged, his face covered with dirt.

“What are you two doing?” demanded Grant, who now approached the two conspirators. “You look as though you were training to be a mole, Fred.”

“There’s a box down in there,” said Fred. “We want to get it out.”

“A box!” exclaimed Grant. “How big is it?”

“I could only feel one end of it. It’s about a foot wide I should say. I don’t know how long it is for all the rest of it is buried in there.”

“Couldn’t you budge it?”

“Not an inch. We’ll have to dig it out.”

“I’ll get that knife Sam made,” exclaimed John. “That’ll be just the thing.”

“Sam’s up by the flag on watch,” Grant called as John started off. “I think he has the knife with him. Who discovered the box?” he inquired, turning to Fred. Grant was now as excited as the other two boys had been.

“John did,” said Fred.

“How did he happen to do it?”

“Oh, he was looking up from the bottom and just happened to see it. He showed it to me and we came up to investigate.”

“Maybe this one has the real stuff in it,” said Grant excitedly.

“Maybe so,” Fred agreed. “All I hope is that we can dig it out.”

“I guess we can,” said Grant confidently. “Here comes String now.”

John came running up, out of breath, and handed the knife to Fred. “I told Sam we had discovered a box,” he panted. “Sam says that if there are any diamond horseshoes in it they belong to him. That’s the only condition on which he would let me have the knife.”

“All right,” laughed Fred. “Sam gets all the horseshoes.”

“Are you going to do the digging, Fred?” asked John.

“I guess I’d better. Let me have the knife.”

Holding the home-made blade in his right hand he was once again lowered into the tunnel. John and Grant each held fast to one leg. It was hard work for Fred for he was in comparative darkness and was compelled to feel around to discover where to dig. It was practically impossible for him to see anything.

“How’s it coming?” called John after a few moments had elapsed.

“All right,” replied Fred, his voice sounding as if it came from the center of the earth. “I’m spilling a lot of dirt down into the cave though.”

“Never mind that, as long as you don’t lose any of the money.”

“Do you really think there’s any gold or anything in that box?” said Grant.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” John replied. “If Pop were here he’d be sure it was empty.”

“I know it. Isn’t he a regular old gloom lately?”

“He’s not usually that way. At least he never used to be.”

“Something has come over him since we started work on that code. He thinks it’s very silly and that we are foolish to bother with it.”

“We’ll surprise him one of these days,” said John confidently.

“I certainly hope so,” exclaimed Grant.

While Fred dug they chatted and talked of the possibilities of their finding some long forgotten pirate’s treasure and making themselves rich and famous. Almost anyone would have been as thrilled as these boys were under the same circumstances. Petersen’s tale on board the Josephine and the strange code he had had; the finding of a similar one in the cave; the chest and the powder-horn and pistol; the queer black rock and Sam’s story in connection with it; all these events had combined to spur the four young adventurers on in their quest. Now they had discovered another odd looking box and with the hope that springs eternal in the human breast they were anxiously and eagerly awaiting a chance to examine its contents.

“All right. Pull me up,” came Fred’s summons at last.

Slowly and carefully John and Grant lifted their companion out of the hole. Soon he emerged, the knife in one hand, the box in the other and with so much dirt and grime that its owner was scarcely recognizable.

“You look like Sam,” remarked John, hardly able to restrain his mirth at Fred’s appearance.

“Open the box and don’t get so personal,” advised Fred, wiping the dirt from his eyes.

Grant was already busily engaged in examining the prize his friend had dug from its place in the earth. “This one is light,” he remarked. “I don’t suppose there is anything in it at all.”

“Can you open it?” demanded John.

“Easily. There’s only a catch on it,” and Grant straightway lifted the cover.

“An envelope,” exclaimed Fred disappointedly. “All that work for nothing.”

Grant, however, was opening the envelope and as he did so two gold pieces rolled out upon the ground. “Empty is it?” he cried. “How about those?”

“Say,” exclaimed John excitedly. “Just look at them. Are there any more?”

“Just this,” said Grant quietly and he spread a sheet of paper before the gaze of his two companions. “Do you recognize it?”

“I should know those figures in China now,” said Fred disgustedly. “It’s that same old code again.”

“I know it,” said Grant, “but do you see what’s written across the top?”

“Sure enough,” exclaimed Fred. “What does it say, anyway?”

“‘This tells where the rest of it is,’” Grant read aloud.