“I’ll say ’tis!” agreed Rawlins. “Mighty fine one too.”
“It’s beautiful—but awfully wild-looking,” declared Frank. “Is it full of Indians and wild animals?”
Rawlins laughed heartily. “Wildest animals are the natives,” he assured them, “and the old Spaniards killed off the last poor Indian over two hundred years ago.” Then, a moment later, he continued: “By the way, speaking of Spaniards, that old galleon I told you about is right over yonder. See that line of reefs? Well, she’s just on the outer edge of those in about 20 to 25 fathoms.”
“Oh, Gosh! why won’t Dad let us stop and go down to it?” cried Tom.
“Say, perhaps he will!” exclaimed Frank jubilantly. “He wouldn’t before, but now he’s in no hurry—they can’t go in shore until dark—and I’ll bet he’d just as lief wait out here as anywhere else. Let’s ask him.”
At first Mr. Pauling refused to listen to the boys’ pleading, but when Rawlins pointed out that they had time to kill and added that he personally would like to have a look at the old wreck, Tom’s father yielded.
“Very well then,” he agreed, “but don’t waste any time. We’ll expect you to bring up a fortune, Rawlins. Let us know when you go down so we can see the fun.”
“And for heaven’s sake take care of yourself,” added Mr. Henderson. “If anything happens to you where will we be?”
“Oh, I’ll be safe enough,” laughed Rawlins. “I’m safer under water than on top any day.”
“Come on then!” cried Tom, “let’s get our suits ready.”