“Switch off yours, then, you mutt,” says I, “and run your cheap sandwich gang back where they belong under the hominy vines.”

My, don’t that raise a howl, though!  They wanted to mob us for keeps then, and all sorts of junk begun to fly through the air.  Then Cap’n Lennon took a hand.

“Sheer off there!” he orders, “or I’ll turn the fire hose on yon.”

Well, the excursion captain stayed long enough to pass the time of day, but when he saw the sailors unreelin’ the hose he got a move on; and in half an hour we was lyin’ quiet again in the moonlight.

Must have been well on towards midnight, and I was just ready to turn in when Mr. Ellins comes paddin’ out of his stateroom, luggin’ two pairs of hip rubber boots.

“Torchy,” says he, “call Killam, will you?”

By the time I’d routed out Rupert, I finds Auntie and Vee waitin’ in the main cabin, all dressed for travel.

“I may be the oldest joke on record,” says Old Hickory, “but I propose to know before morning what is in that mound.  Of course, if anyone feels foolish about going—­”

“I do, for one,” speaks up Auntie, “and I should think you would, too, Matthew Ellins.  We’ve been told how silly we are enough times to-night, haven’t we?”

“We have,” says Old Hickory.  “Which is just why I propose to see this thing through.”

“And I am quite as stubborn as you are,” says Auntie.  “That is why I am going, too.”

Vee and I didn’t put up any apologies.  We just trailed along silent.  As for Rupert, he’d been kicked around so much the last few days that he hadn’t a word to say.  Here he was, too, right on the verge of the big test that he’d been workin’ up to so long, and he’s so meek he hardly dares open his head.  When we starts pilin’ into the launch he shows up with a couple of bundles.

“What the syncopated seraphims have you there?” demands Old Hickory.

“Gas bombs,” says Rupert.  “To clear out the snakes.”

“Careful with ’em,” growls Old Hickory.  “What else?”

“A few canvas bags for—­for the treasure, sir,” says Rupert, duckin’ his head sheepish.  “Shall—­shall I put them in?”

“Oh, you might as well,” says Old Hickory.

And once more, with Vee at the wheel, we sneaks off in the moonlight for Nunca Secos Key.  We wasn’t a chatty lot of adventurers.  I expect we all felt like we was about to open an April fool package, and wished the others hadn’t been there to watch.  None of us could pass anyone else the laugh; that was some satisfaction.

There was enough outsiders, though, to give us the titter.  Megrue was sure to spread the tale among Old Hickory’s business friends.  And who knew what that pair of foiled interviewers would do to us?  Some of their stuff might get into the New York papers.  Then wouldn’t Mr. Ellins be let in for a choice lot of joshin’!  No wonder he sits chewin’ savage at a cold cigar.