“I think we speak at cross-purposes, Mr. Shaw,” he said courteously, “and that we may better understand each other, I am going to tell you a little story.  At about this season, two years ago, the navy of Santa Marina, the same which now lies off the island, was making a voyage of inspection along the coast of the republic.  It was decided to include Leeward in the cruise, as it had been unvisited for a considerable time.  I hold no naval rank—­indeed, we are not a seafaring people, and the captain of La Golondrina is a person from Massachusetts, Jeremiah Bowles by name, but as the representative of His Excellency I accompanied La Golondrina.  On our arrival at Leeward I came ashore in the boat, and found to my surprise a small sloop at anchor in the cove.  About the clearing were the signs of recent habitation, yet I knew that the old German who had had the copra concession here had been gone for some time.  There were no personal trifles left in the hut, however, and indeed it was plain that weeks had passed since there had been any one about.  No one responded to our shouts and calls.

“I turned my attention to the sloop.  In the cabin, besides a few clothes, I found something that interested me very much—­a large brass-bound chest, of an antique type such as is common enough in my own country.

“Of course I had heard of the many legends of treasure buried on Leeward Island.  Consequently I was somewhat prepared to find in the chest, what in fact I did find there, over a million dollars in old Spanish coins.

“These coins, which were packed in strong canvas bags, were, as you may fancy, very quickly transferred to the cutter.  We did not trouble ourselves with the unwieldy chest, and it remains, I suppose, in the cabin of the sloop, which I observed as we crossed the cove to have been washed up upon the rocks.

“As my curiosity was extremely piqued regarding the owner of the sloop, the manner in which he had discovered the treasure, and still more his extraordinary disappearance, I should have wished to make a thorough search of the island.  But the season for storms was shortly to begin, and already the weather signs were so threatening that Captain Bowles was reluctant to remain longer in the neighborhood of the island, which has a bad name for dangerous shoals and reefs.  For the same reason it was thought unwise to risk a man or two aboard the sloop to sail her to the mainland.  Indeed, we ourselves were glad to get safely home with our doubloons in the teeth of a tropical gale.”

“This is a very interesting story, Senor Gonzales,” said Dugald Shaw quietly, “and as you say, your visit here deprives us of nothing, but merely saves us further unprofitable labor.  We are grateful to you.”

The Spaniard bowed.