“So, of course, you picked the lock and stole his time card.”

“Wait, Tom,” cautioned Jack.  “Let Harry finish his story.”

“So, of course,” went on Harry, “when we were getting loose I forgot all about the paper until the place was afire.  Arnold went out of the cabin and I was at his heels, but remembered the envelope.  I wanted that badly just then, so I snatched up a great piece of firewood and with a few blows shattered the top of the chest.  It had a tray that was nearly empty except for the thing I sought.  There it lay, ready for me to take.  So, of course, I took it.  I stuffed it inside my jacket while we climbed out and then in the darkness I put it into an inside pocket where it has been ever since.  Lopez forgot to search us very diligently or he would surely have discovered it.”

“What does it look like and do you think it has any information we could use?” inquired Jack, intensely interested.

“I don’t know what the thing inside is made of,” answered Harry producing the article.  “It looks like leather of a peculiar kind and on it are black marks.  If it were not for one thing, I’d have passed it up entirely.  Over in the corner are the words—­’Biloxi Bayou.’  Then the rest was as clear as mud.”

“Let’s take a look at it,” requested Arnold.  “We all want to see what it’s like.  If it was left by a Spaniard, it’s no use to us, for we can’t read Spanish and when Harry says he read it, I can’t believe he knows what he’s talking about.  He can’t read Spanish.”

“I can read this all right,” protested Harry, “and so can you.  It’s very simple.  Here’s a mark and there’s a mark and that’s all.”

He now spread the chart open above the binnacle so that the boys all might look at it.  As he had said, it was a piece of soft Spanish leather left white by the dyer but now yellowed and darkened somewhat with age.  In rather uneven lines were traced roughly the location of certain objects intended obviously to be trees.  Certain of these were ranged in line like the range lights used by mariners when entering or leaving a harbor.  At a spot where two lines of ranges crossed, which was evidently near the water’s edge, was a rough sketch of a box.  Evidently no words were needed.

“I see it all as plain as day,” declared Arnold.  “This old chap selected a spot at the intersection of two ranges using big trees—­maybe live oaks—­then he dug a hole and buried the chest.  It is right where the tide comes up so no one would think of looking there for it!  He was a wise old chap.”

“Then we’ll have to go there when the tide’s out.”

“No, I don’t think so.  I have another idea,” Jack put in, “but it’s so foolish that we better forget it.  Anyhow, I believe the fellow tried to say that the box was buried just at the high water mark.”

“All right, let it go at that,” returned Harry.  “If the box is there and the trees are there, that’s all we want.  We can get it.”