“They’re all right,” said Henry, and presently they heard the light footsteps of the three coming fast.

“Here, Paul, here we are!” called out Sol a few moments later, “an’ min’, Paul, that your moccasins are clean.  We don’t allow no dirty footsteps on this magnificent, silver-plated gall-yun o’ ours, an’ ez fur Jim Hart, ef the Mississippi wuzn’t so muddy I’d make him take a bath afore he come aboard.”

Henry and the shiftless one certainly enjoyed the surprise of their comrades who stood staring.

“I suppose you cut her out, took her from the Spaniards?” said Paul.

“We shorely did,” replied Sol, “an’, Paul, she’s a shore enough gall-yun, one o’ the kind you told us them Spaniards had, ‘cause she’s full o’ good things.  Jest come on board an’ look.”

The three were quickly on the boat and they followed Sol with surprise and delight, as he showed them their new treasures one by one.

“You’ve named her right, Sol,” said Paul.  “She is a galleon to us, sure enough, and that’s what we’ll call her, ‘The Galleon.’  When we have time, Sol, you and I will cut that name on her with our knives.”

They tied their boat to a sapling and kept the oars and themselves aboard.  Tom Ross volunteered to keep the watch for the few hours that were left of the night.  The others disposed themselves comfortably in the boat, wrapped their bodies in the beautiful new Spanish blankets, and were soon sound asleep.

Tom sat in the prow of the boat, his rifle across his knees, and his keen hunting knife by his side.  At the first sign of danger from shore he could cut the rope with a single slash of his knife and push the boat far out into the current.

But there was no indication of danger nor did the indefinable sixth sense, that came of long habit and training, warn him of any.  Instead, it remained a peaceful night, though dark, and Tom looked contemplatively at his comrades.  He was the oldest of the little party and a man of few words, but he was deeply attached to his four faithful comrades.  Silently he gave thanks that his lot was cast with those whom he liked so well.

The night passed away and up came a beautiful dawn of rose and gold.  Tom Ross awakened his comrades.

“The day is here,” he said, “an’ we must be up an’ doin’ ef we’re goin’ to keep on the trail o’ them Spanish fellers.”

“All right,” said Shif’less Sol, opening his eyes.  “Jim Hart, is my breakfus ready?  Ef so, you kin jest bring it to me while I’m layin’ here an’ I’ll eat it in bed.”

“Your breakfus ready!” replied Jim Hart indignantly.  “What sort uv nonsense are you talkin’ now, Sol Hyde?”

“Why, ain’t you the ship’s cook?” said Sol in a hurt tone, “an’ oughtn’t you to be proud o’ bein’ head cook on a splendiferous new gall-yun like this?  I’d a-thought, Jim, you’d be so full o’ enthusiasm over bein’ promoted that you’d have had ready fur us the grandest breakfus that wuz ever cooked by a mortal man fur mortal men.  It wuz sech a fine chance fur you.”