“As a matter of fact, our get-away was ridiculously easy,” he said, “for we had luck at every turn—­regular Irish luck.  I’m sure Captain Morin suspected that Rosa wasn’t a boy, but he was perfectly foolish about Jacket and tolerated us on his account.  We owe everything to that kid; he’s wonderful.  I made Morin independent for life, but it wasn’t the money, it was Jacket who induced him to bring us clear to Turiguano.  He landed us one night, this side of the Moron trocha.  Since then we’ve waded swamps to our armpits, we’ve fought the jungle and chewed bark—­ but we’re here.”  Johnnie heaved a deep sigh of relief.

“Where did you get the money to hire schooners and corrupt captains?” Branch inquired.  “You were broke when I knew you.”

O’Reilly hesitated; he lowered his voice to a whisper.  “We found the Varona treasure.”

Norine uttered a cry.  “Not Don Esteban’s treasure?”

“Exactly.  It was in the well where young Esteban told us it was.”

“Oh, Johnnie!  You mean thing!” exclaimed the girl.  “You promised—­ "

“You’ll have a chance to dig,” he laughed.  “We couldn’t begin to bring all of it; we merely took the jewels and the deeds and what money our clothes would hold.  The rest—­”

“Wait!  Wait!” Branch wailed, clapping his hand to his head.  “’Merely the jewels and the deeds and what money our clothes would hold?’ Bullets!  Why, one suit of clothes will hold all the money in the world!  Am I dreaming?  ‘Money!’ I haven’t seen a bona-fide dollar since I put on long pants.  What does money look like?  Is it round or—?”

Johnnie produced from his pocket a handful of coins.

Branch’s eyes bulged, he touched a gold piece respectfully, weighed it carefully, then pressed it to his lips.  He rubbed it against his cheeks and in his hair; he placed it between his teeth and bit it.

“It’s real!” he cried.  “Now let me look at the jewels.”

“Rosa has them.  She’s wearing them on her back.  Hunched backs are lucky, you know; hers is worth a fortune.”

“Why, this beats the Arabian Nights!” Norine gasped.

“It beats—­” Branch paused, then wagged his head warningly at the girl.  “I don’t believe a word of it and you mustn’t.  Johnnie read this story on his yachting-trip.  It couldn’t happen.  In the first place there isn’t any more money in the world; mints have quit coining it.  Why, if I wrote such a yarn—­”

“It is almost unbelievable,” Johnnie acknowledged.  “I found Aladdin’s cave, but”—­his face paled and he stirred uneasily—­“it was nearly the death of all of us.  I’ll have to tell you the whole story now; I’ve only told you the half.”

While his hearers listened, petrified with amazement and doubting their ears, he recited the incidents of that unforgettable night on La Cumbre:  how Cobo came, and of the trap he sprung; how Jacket stole upon the assassin while he knelt, and of the blow he struck.