When all was ready, Spike gave the word, and the chips began to fly.  By the use of the saw and the axe, a hole large enough to admit two or three men at a time, was soon made in the deck, and the sounding for the much-coveted locker commenced.  By this time, it was quite dark; and a lantern was passed down from the brig, in order to enable those who searched for the locker to see.  Spike had breasted the yawl close up to the hole, where it was held by the men, while the captain himself passed the lantern and his own head into the opening to reconnoitre.

“Ay, it’s all right!” cried the voice of the captain from within his cell-like cavity.  “I can just see the lid of the locker that Jack means, and we shall soon have what we are a’ter.  Carpenter, you may as well slip off your clothes at once, and go inside; I will point out to you the place where to find the locker.  You’re certain, Jack, it was the starboard locker?”

“Ay, ay, sir, the starboard locker, and no other.”

The carpenter had soon got into the hole, as naked as when he was born.  It was a gloomy-looking place for a man to descend into at that hour, the light from the lantern being no great matter, and half the time it was shaded by the manner in which Spike was compelled to hold it.

“Take care and get a good footing, carpenter,” said the captain, in a kinder tone than common, “before you let go with your hands; but I suppose you can swim, as a matter of course?”

“No, sir, not a stroke—­I never could make out in the water at all.”

“Have the more ’care, then.  Had I known as much, I would have sent another hand down; but mind your footing.  More to the left, man—­more to the left.  That is the lid of the locker—­your hand is on it; why do you not open it?”

“It is swelled by the water, sir, and will need a chisel, or some tool of that sort.  Just call out to one of the men, sir, if you please, to pass me a chisel from my tool-chest.  A good stout one will be best.”

This order was given, and, during the delay it caused, Spike encouraged the carpenter to be cool, and above all to mind his footing.  His own eagerness to get at the gold was so great that he kept his head in at the hole, completely cutting off the man within from all communication with the outer world.

“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Spike, a little sternly.  “You shiver, and yet the water cannot be cold in this latitude.  No, my hand makes it just the right warmth to be pleasant.”

“It’s not the water, Captain Spike—­I wish they would come with the chisel.  Did you hear nothing, sir?  I’m certain I did!”

“Hear!—­what is there here to be heard, unless there may be some fish inside, thrashing about to get out of the vessel’s hold?”

“I am sure I heard something like a groan, Captain Spike.  I wish you would let me come out, sir, and I’ll go for the chisel myself; them men will never find it.”