the peninsula. While the men were
drawing it up on the sand beyond reach of the tide I called to Jimmie.

"Yes, Mr. Sedgwick."

"Take off your coat."

"Are youse going to give me that licking now?" he asked, eyes big with
surprise.

"How often have I told you not to ask questions? Shuck the coat."

He twisted out of it like an eel. I took it from him, turned it inside
out, and opened my pocket knife. Carefully I ripped the lining at the
seams. From a kind of pocket I drew an envelope. Out of the envelope I
took the map that had been so closely connected with the history of
Doubloon Spit.

When I say the men were surprised, I do them less than justice. One
could have knocked their eyes off with a stick.

"Crikey! I didn't know that was there," Jimmie cried.

It had been Evelyn's idea to sew the map in Jimmie's coat, since that
was the last place the mutineers would think of looking for it. While he
had been peacefully sleeping Miss Wallace had done so neat a piece of
tailoring that Jimmie did not suspect the garment had been tampered
with.

We had, however, taken the precaution to take a copy of the map. During
all the desperate fighting it had been lying in a shell snugly fitted
into one of the chambers of a revolver in Yeager's room.

"Beg pardon, sir. Did the boy have the map with him while he was Mr.
Bothwell's prisoner?" asked Gallagher.

"He did; but he didn't know it."

"Glad he didn't, sir, because if he had that devil would have got it out
of him."

"Which no doubt would have distressed you greatly," I answered dryly.

"I'm on the honest side now, sir," the sailor said quietly.

"Let's hope you stay there."

"I intend to, sir," he said, flushing at my words.

[Illustration: "CRIKEY! I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS THERE," JIMMIE CRIED.
p. 240]

The chart that Tom and I looked at was a contour map of the spit and the
territory adjacent to it. No doubt it had in the old days been roughly
accurate, but now the tongue of sand was wider than it had been by
nearly a hundred years of sand deposits washed up by the tide.

Both on the map and the spit a salient feature was the grove of palms
that stood on the hill just beyond the neck of the peninsula. Here
plainly was the starting point of our quest. With Yeager I led the way
to the clump, followed by my men carrying spades and shovels.

"Ye Grove" the clump of palms was labeled, and the great drooping tree
to one side some fifty yards farther down the