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Updated: May 10, 2025
Early in September Billy and I dropped off No. 1 with our guns and "plunder," as baggage is called there, and a couple of the old Don's men met us with saddle and pack animals. I never spent a pleasanter two weeks in my life. The quiet, almost gloomy, old Don and I became fast friends, and the hunting was good.
The gold-hunters groped their way cautiously about the cabin for some time, feeling for a drawer, in which they had been told they should find the key of Senor Montefalderon's state-room door. In this Spike himself finally succeeded, he being much better acquainted with cabins and their fixtures, than the boatswain. "Here it is, Ben," said the captain, "now for a dive among the Don's val'ables.
"I want to stretch my legs a little," was Don's reply. "Come on, and let's explore the island. You know it used to be a famous bear's den, don't you?" "I should think I ought to know it, having heard father tell the story of the animal's capture a dozen times or more.
Can you shake hands?" "No!" cried Jem, fiercely. "You turn over and float." Don uttered a sigh, and obeyed in a feeble way, while Jem ceased his striking out for shore, and placed one arm under Don's neck. "It's all right, my lad. Don't lose heart," he said. "It's wonderful easy to float; but you're tired. It's your clothes does it.
That which gave us most uneasiness, however, was to observe that each of these "friends" carried an ugly kind of musket slung across his back, and a most unpleasant long sheath knife in his waist cloth. Not a word says our Don Sanchez, but feigning still to believe him a man of quality, he returns the other Don's salutation with all the ceremony possible.
Flamby tossed her tam-o'-shanter on to a chair, slapped the pockets of Don's tunic in quest of his cigarette-case, found it, took out and lighted a cigarette, and then curled herself up in a corner of the settee, hugging her knees. "Paul thinks I'm fast," she said.
Tim put his lips to Don's ears. "Over there to the right." Another silence. Then the noise again, farther off. "They're at the last blaze," Tim whispered. "This is too close for comfort." They made off with stealthy caution. Whenever they found clear ground they hurried, but for the most part it was slow work. All at once came a faint cry. "They've found the empty hole," cried Tim.
It was some time before Don was able to begin his explanations, and the account of what had passed; and when he did it was with his mother sitting on his right, holding his hand in both of hers, and with his cousin seated upon his left, following her aunt's suit, while the old Bristol merchant lay back in his chair smoking his evening pipe, a grim smile upon his lips, but a look of pride in his eyes as if he did not at all disapprove of Don's conduct when he was at sea.
This ceased short silence ensued; Don's sharp voice woke the echoes, then the regular baying continued. As with one thought, we all sat down. Painful as the certainty was it was not so painful as that listening, hoping suspense. "Shore they can't be blamed," said Jim finally. "Bumping their nose into a tied lion that way how'd they know?"
Nevin I have told him so and he can settle the matter." She laid her hand on Don's sleeve. "Don't think me silly, or an ungrateful little beast," she said, "but I can't talk about it any more; it makes me want to cry. Did you know that Chauvin got me a commission from the War Office propaganda people to do pictures of horses and mules and things?" "Yes," replied Don, guiltily.
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