Without finishing his thought he hurried down to the trench and once more went to work. Digging some five feet down beside the wall of wood he came to a flooring of hard planks, just what he had been looking for. It was the deck of a ship, and he began feverishly to dip out sand. In this task he was finally surprised by Terry and the overseer.
Terry had returned to the camp with a few dead bushes and they had waited around for Jim to return, but as he did not do so they became alarmed and set out to find him. Their first glimpse of him was an odd one. When they topped the rise some distance back of him they saw him standing in a deep trench, facing a four foot wall of wood, busily engaged in scooping sand from the hole and throwing it as far away as he could. With cries of astonishment they hurried up to the long trench which he was making.
“Jim!” Terry cried, while the Mexican looked on with bulging eyes. “What is this?”
Jim started slightly as he straightened up. “It is the remains of a sunken ship,” he cried. “See, this is evidently the rail, a solid wall of wood, and I’m just uncovering the deck. It was burned to the edge of the water, and later covered up with sand.”
“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” shouted Terry. “Do you think it is the treasure ship?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t doubt it. As you can see, I have uncovered about twenty-five feet of this rail. The deck seems to be good and I’m trying to uncover enough of it to find a hatchway, so that we can see if it is empty down below.”
Terry and the Mexican jumped down beside him. The Mexican understood enough of English to know that they thought the ship beneath them might be a treasure ship, and he set to work with a sincere will to scoop sand. They could not make much progress, however, for it was rapidly growing dark, and at last they were forced to give it up until the next day.
“That is the best we can do,” Jim decided, peering about him in the dark. “Let’s chop some of this wood and then we’ll go back to camp.”
With his axe he hacked off enough wood to last them through the night and the three companions carried it back to their camp, where, amid much talking, they built the fire and cooked the supper. The Mexican was told the whole story and he replied that he knew the legend of the phantom galleon. The boys were not averse to telling him the story for they felt that they owed him much and knew that his future help would mean everything. It was late that night before they lay down to sleep, and with the rising of the sun they were up and at work on the buried wreck.
It took them all the morning to clear the solid deck of the ancient ship for a space of several feet and at last they came to a hatchway, covered by a heavy door which was flush with the deck. There was a bolt on the door but one blow of the axe broke it in pieces, and the three united all their strength to pulling the hatch open. It came upward at last, releasing a flood of stale and poisonous air that sent them reeling backward with all possible speed.