"Wot would you say that wos, sir?" she inquired.
The Captain dove a sturdy arm into the hole.
"Blast my buttons!" he said vehemently. "'Tis the edge of a box!"
He really had not suspected the steamer-rug's curious proportions in the least, and his enthusiasm for Joan's inventive resources and for the treasure-hunt flamed even higher.
"Dig, man!" he cried, occupying the entire hole himself. "'Tis the doubloons!"
The sand flew violently, and in a short time the chest was so much uncovered that Joan could lift it out. It proved to be a small, stout box, salvaged from the beach, where it had become as much weathered as the most ancient of pirate chests. It had a hinged lid, whereon was inscribed in bold, black letters:
CARDIFFE: 1732: X.J.X.
In the corner a skull and cross-bones was blazoned, with "F. A." beneath it.
"Aha!" muttered Bobstay. "Felipe Astores! That's his black mark, right enough."
Garth fumbled at the hasp and flung open the lid.
"The dogs!" growled the Bo'sun, peering
