"That spade proves there was some digging done," said Phil. "Undoubtedly he came here looking for that treasure."
"Did you ever get any of the particulars of that treasure?" asked Dave, of the old sailor.
"Not much, exceptin' that it was a treasure of pearls and precious stones once hidden by some native king. Mr. Porter didn't want to tell much about it, and I didn't feel as I had the right to ask him."
It was now growing late, and all felt that it was time to return to the ship. Before leaving the hut, Dave pinned a slip of paper over the map, writing upon it as follows:
"To Dunston A. Porter:
"I am very anxious to meet you. I am on board the bark Stormy Petrel, in the harbor of this island, and bound for Sobago Island. Please see me, by all means.
David Porter."
To this the youth added the date, and also his home address, in case he should fail to meet Dunston Porter and the man should wish to write to him.
"That certainly ought to interest him—especially if he is interested in a lost boy," was Roger's comment.
Dave was in a sober mood when he returned to the ship and did not feel much like talking. He allowed the others to relate the day's experience, to which Captain Marshall listened closely.
"It is certainly a pity we didn't get a chance to talk to those natives," said the master of the Stormy Petrel. "They might have shown me some way out of this harbor."