"Sounds reasonable enough. The chief point is that you've found the gold. I'll order a force ashore to help you."
There is something in the very thought of treasure-trove that unsettles the most sane. Not a word was said to anybody except Tom about what I had found, but everybody on board was sure the bullion had been found.
Before the eyes of each man danced shining yellow ingots and pieces of eight. We could tell it by the eagerness with which they volunteered for shore duty.
I chose Yeager, the chief engineer—he was a lank Yankee named Stubbs—and Jamaica Ginger, as we called our second fireman. With us we took ashore a stout box, in which to pack the loose gold.
Those left on board cheered us as we pulled toward the beach, and we answered lustily their cheer. Every man jack of us was in the best of spirits.
By this time it was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still very hot. I was careful not to let anybody work long at a stretch. As the bars of gold were uncovered we packed them in the box brought for the purpose. Every time a shovel disclosed a new find there was fresh jubilation.
While Alderson and I were resting under the shade of a mangrove the sailor made a suggestion.
"You don't expect to get all the treasure out to-night, do you, sir?"
"No. Perhaps not by to-morrow night. It is hard digging among so many roots. And Mr. Bucks does not seem to have put it all together."
"Will you keep a guard here, Mr. Sedgwick?"
"Yes. It looks like a deserted neck of the woods, but we'll take no chances."
"That is what I was thinking, sir. Last night I couldn't sleep for the heat and I strung a hammock on deck. About three o'clock this morning a boat passed on its way to the mouth of the river."
"Cholo Indians, likely."
"No, sir. This was a schooner. It was some distance away, but I could make that out."
"Well, we'll keep this place under our eye till the treasure is lifted."
About sunset I sent Gallagher, Stubbs, and Jamaica Ginger aboard with the box of treasure, the Arizonian being in charge of the boat. While I waited for its return I took a turn up the beach to catch the light breeze that was beginning to stir.
I walked toward the head of the harbor, strolling farther in that direction than any of us had yet gone. I went possibly an eighth of a mile above the spit, carrying my hat in my hand and moving in a leisurely way.
In truth I was at peace with the world. We had succeeded in our quest and found the treasure. In a few days at most I should be back at Panama with my slim sweetheart in my arms. What more could rational man ask?
Then I stopped in my stride, snatched into a sudden amazement. For there before me in the sand was the imprint of a boot made since the tide went out a few hours earlier in the day.
No flat-footed Indian had left the track. It was too sharp, too decisive, had been left plainly by a shoe of superior make.
No guess of the truth came to me, but instinctively I eased the revolver in the scabbard by my side. Of this much I was sure, that whereas I had supposed no white man except those of our party to be within many miles, there was at least one in the immediate vicinity.
What, then, was he doing here? How had he come? Had he any intimation that there was treasure to be found? It was altogether likely that whoever this man was he had not come to this desolate spot without companions and without a very definite purpose.
Where were they, then? And how did it happen we had not seen them? The very secrecy of their presence seemed to suggest a sinister purpose.
Should I go on and follow the tracks. Or should I go back and notify Blythe at once? The latter no doubt would be the wiser course, but my impulse was to push forward and discover something more definite. As luck would have it, the decision was taken out of my hands.
Out of the jungle a man came straight toward me. The very sight of that strong, erect figure moving swiftly with easy stride tied, as it were, a stone to my heart. The man was Boris Bothwell. I was sure of it long before his face was distinguishable.
He waved a hand at me with debonair insouciance.
I waited for him without moving, my fingers on the butt of the revolver at my side.
"So happy to meet you again, dear friend," he jeered as soon as he was within hail.
"What are you doing here? How did you get out?" I demanded.
"My simple-minded youth, money goes a long way among the natives. I bought my way out, since you are curious to know."
"And you've followed us down here to make more trouble?"
"To renew our little private war. How did you guess it?"
"So you haven't had enough yet. You have come back to take another licking."
"It's a long lane that has no turning," he assured me gaily. "I give you my word that I've reached the bend, Mr. Sedgwick."
His confident audacity got on my nerves. On the surface we had all the best of the game. The trouble was that he knew the cards I held, whereas I could only guess at his.
"You are the most unmitigated villain not yet hanged!" I cried in rage.
He bowed, rakish and smiling, with all the airs of a dancing master.
"I fear you flatter me, sir."
"I warn you to keep your hands off. We're ready for you."
"I thought it only fair to warn you. That is why I am here and have the pleasure of talking with you."
"More lies. You showed yourself only because you knew I had seen your footprints."
He gave up the point with an easy laugh.
"But really I did want to talk with you. We have many interests in common. Our taste in women, for instance. By the way, did you leave Evie well?"
Triumph swam in the eyes, narrowed to slits, through which he watched me. I could not understand his derisive confidence.
"We'll not discuss that," I told him bluntly.
"As you say. I come to another common interest—the treasure. Is it running up to our hopes?"
So he knew that we had found it. No doubt he had been watching us all day through the telescope that hung at his side.
"We don't recognize any hopes you may have."
"But why not face facts? I intend to own the treasure when you have dug it up for me."
"You're of a sanguine temperament."
"Poof! Life is a game of cards. First you hold trumps, then they fall to me. It chances that now I hold the whip and ride on the crest of fortune's wave. Hope you don't mind mixed figures."
"You'll ride at the end of the hangman's rope," I prophesied.
"Let us look on the bright side."
"I'm trying to do that."
The man knew something that I did not. I was not bandying repartee with him for pleasure, but because I knew that if he talked long enough he would drop the card hidden up his sleeve.
What was his ace of trumps? How could he afford to sit back and let us dig up the gold? He could not be merely bluffing, for the man had been laughing at me from that first wave of the hand.
"It is unfortunate that you and I don't pull together, Mr. Sedgwick. We'd make an invincible team. You're the best enemy I ever met."
"And you're the worst I've met."
"Same