“And now,” says Old Hickory, grabbin’ up a spade from the bottom of the boat, “now we—­”

“Now we will go back to the yacht and get some sleep,” announces Auntie.  “I’ve had treasure hunting enough for one night.  So have you, Matthew Ellins, if you only knew it.”

Old Hickory shrugs his shoulders.  He drops the spade.  Then he lets go of a yawn.

“Oh, well!” says he.  “If that’s the way you feel about it.”

“What!” says Vee.  “Go another whole day without knowing whether—­”

“Certainly,” cuts in Auntie.  “I’m so sleepy I couldn’t tell a doubloon from a doughnut.  Ho-ho-hum!  Let’s be getting back.”

It wasn’t much after six when we made the yacht, but the whole crew seems to be up and stirrin’ around.  As we comes alongside they sort of groups themselves into a gawp committee forward, and I caught them passin’ the smile and nudge to each other.  The two sailors that mans the landin’ stairs are on the broad grin.  It’s well for them that neither Auntie nor Old Hickory seems to notice.  I did, though, and trails behind the others gettin’ out.

“What’s all the comedy for?” I demands.

“Nothing at all, sir,” says one.

Then the other breaks in with, “Any luck, sir?”

“Sure!” says I.  “We saw a swell sunrise.”

I’m wonderin’, though, why all them hired hands should be givin’ us the merry face.

CHAPTER XV

PASSING THE JOKE BUCK

I don’t mind admittin’ that this treasure-huntin’ stuff does get you.  Course, while I was only an outsider, with no ticket even for a brokerage bite at the gate receipts, I wasn’t runnin’ any temperature over the prospects.

But now it was different.  Vee and I had gone out and shown this poor prune of a Captain Killam where his bloomin’ island was, we’d rescued Auntie and Old Hickory from bein’ stuck in the mud, and we’d been officially counted in as possible prize winners.  More’n that, we’d seen the treasure mound.

“Torchy,” says Vee, the first chance we has for a few side remarks after lunch that day, “what do you think?  Is it full of gold and jewels?”

“Well,” says I, tryin’ to look wise, “it might be, mightn’t it?  And then again you can’t always tell.”

“But suppose it is?” insists Vee, her gray eyes bigger than ever.

“I can’t,” says I.  “It’s too much of a strain.  Honest, from what I’ve seen of the country down here, it would be a miracle to run across a single loose dollar, while as for uncoverin’ it in bunches—­ Say, Vee, how much of this pirate guff do you stand for, anyway?”

“Why, you silly,” says she.  “Of course there were pirates—­Lafitte and Jose Gaspar and—­and a lot of others.  They robbed ships right off here and naturally they buried their treasure when they came ashore.”

“What simps!” says I.  “Then they went off and forgot, eh?”