“It’s because he’s afraid he’ll walk out without it,” says Vee.  “But he’ll do that, anyway.  And he leaves it in the weirdest places—­under the piano, in a vase, or back of the fire screen.  We always have a grand hunt for the Professor’s hat when he starts to go.  But it’s no wonder he forgets such trifles, when he knows so much about fishes.  He writes books about ’em.”

“He looks it,” says I.  “And, last but not least, we have arriving Captain Rupert Killam, who started all this trouble.  My, but he takes life serious, don’t he?”

From where we sat in the library window alcove, we could get a fair view of the bunch up front, and I must say that the last thing in the world you’d ever expect this collection to do would be to go cruisin’ off after pirate gold.  Here they were, though, gathered in Auntie’s drawin’-room, and if the idea of the meetin’ wasn’t to hear details about the trip, what was it?

I was expectin’ Auntie to have the foldin’ doors shut and an executive session called; but she either forgot we was there, or else she was too excited to notice it, for the next thing we knew she was callin’ on Mr. Ellins to state the proposition.  Which he does in his usual crisp way.

“You have been asked,” says he, “to go with us on a cruise to the west coast of Florida.  That is all you are supposed to know about it, according to Captain Killam’s notion.  But that’s nonsense.  I, for one, don’t intend to keep up an air of mysterious secrecy for the next three or four weeks.  As a matter of fact, we are going after hidden treasure—­pirate gold, buried jewels, all that sort of thing.”

“O-o-o-oh!” coos Mrs. Mumford.  “Doesn’t that sound deliciously romantic?”

“Quixotic if you will,” says Mr. Ellins.  “But Mrs. Hemmingway and myself, although we may not look it, are just that kind.  We are desperate characters, if the truth must be told.  The only reason we haven’t hunted for buried treasure before is that we have lacked the opportunity.  We think we have it now.  Captain Killam, here, has told us of an island on which is a buried pirate hoard—­millions in gold, priceless jewels by the peck.  And that’s what we’re going after.”

“Most interesting, I’m sure,” says Professor Barr, wipin’ his glasses absent-minded with a corner of Mrs. Mumford’s shoulder scarf.

“But, I say,” puts in J. Dudley Simms, “I’ll not be any help at digging, you know.”

“Has anyone ever suspected you of being useful in any capacity?” demands Old Hickory.

“Oh, come!” protests Dudley.  “I play a fair game of bridge, don’t I?”

“Exception allowed,” says Mr. Ellins.  “And I may say, to quiet any similar fears, that the entire burden of the treasure hunt will be undertaken by Mrs. Hemmingway, the Captain, and myself.  Incidentally, we expect to divide the spoils among ourselves.  Aside from that, we ask you to share with us the pleasure and perhaps the perils of the trip.”