stantly on the alert,
for he had every reason to distrust Daggs. Without making a sound he
worked nearer to the edge of the bunk and pulled the cover up to hide
all but his eyes. The pirate hauled his chest out farther into the
middle of the floor, where more light fell.

[Illustration]

Then he knelt before it and unlocked it with a key which he took from
about his neck. Jeremy almost expected to see a heap of gold coin as the
lid was raised. He was disappointed. A garment of dark cloth, probably a
cloak, and some dirty linen were all that came to view. The buccaneer
lifted out a number of articles of seaman's gear and laid them beside
him. After them came a leather pouch, quite heavy, Jeremy thought. The
man raised it carefully and weighed it in his hand. It must have been
his portion of the spoils taken on the voyage. However, this was not
what he was after, it seemed, for a moment later it was laid on the
floor beside the other things. Next he removed two pistols and a second
pouch of the sort used for powder and shot. There was a long interval as
he rummaged in the bottom of the box, under other contents which Jeremy
could not see. At last the pirate stood up, holding a rolled paper tied
with string. Another long moment he peered about him and listened. When
he had reassured himself, he untied the string and opened the paper, a
square document, perhaps a foot each way. It was discolored and worn at
the edges, apparently quite old. What was inscribed on it Jeremy could
not see, stare as he might. Daggs examined it a moment, then knelt,
preoccupied, and spread it upon the floor. With one finger he traced a
line along it, zigzagging from one side diagonally to the foot, his lips
moving silently meanwhile. Then his other hand hovered above the
document for a time before he planted his thumb squarely upon a spot
near the top.

Jeremy's thoughts kept time with his racing heart. He watched every
motion of the buccaneer with a fierce intentness that missed no detail.
Daggs had been quiet for a full two minutes, a crafty gloating smile
playing over his thin lips. Now once more he touched a place upon the
sheet before him. "Right there, she'll be," he muttered. Then, after
slowly rolling up the paper, he replaced it and locked the box. The eyes
of the boy in the bunk gleamed excitedly, for he was sure now of the
nature of the document. Beyond any reasonable doubt, it was a chart.
"Solomon Brig's treasure!" he whispered to