Day after day Captain Horn labored at his new occupation, and a toilsome occupation it was, which no one who did not possess great powers of endurance, and great hopes from the results of his work, could have undergone. In about a month the schooner was to be expected with another load of guano, and the captain felt that he must, if possible, finish his task before she came back. In a few days he found that, by practice and improvements in his system of work, he was able to make four trips a day between the cove of the Rackbirds and the caves. He rose very early in the morning, and made two trips before dinner. Sometimes he thought he might do more, but he restrained himself. It would not do for him to get back too tired to sleep.
During this time in which his body was so actively employed, his mind was almost as active, and went out on all sorts of excursions, some of them beneficial and some of them otherwise. Sometimes the thought came to him, as he plodded along bearing his heavy bags, that he was no more than a common thief, carrying away treasures which did not belong to him. Then, of course, he began to reason away these uncomfortable reflections. If this treasure did not belong to him, to whom did it belong? Certainly not to the descendants of those Spaniards from whom the original owners had striven so hard to conceal it. If the spirits of the Incas could speak, they would certainly declare in his favor over that of the children of the men who, in blood and torture, had obliterated them and their institutions. Sometimes such arguments entirely satisfied the captain; but if they did not entirely satisfy him, he put the whole matter aside, to be decided upon after he should safely reach the United States with such treasure as he might be able to take with him.
"Then," he thought, "we can do what we think is right. I shall listen to all that may be said by our party, and shall act justly. But what I do not take away with me has no chance whatever of ever falling into the proper hands."
But no matter how he might terminate such reflections, the captain always blamed himself for allowing his mind to occupy itself with them. He had fully decided that this treasure belonged to him, and there was no real reason for his thinking of such things, except that he had no one to talk to, and in such cases a man's thoughts are apt to run wild.
Often and often he wondered what the others were thinking about this affair, and whether or not they would all be able to keep the secret until he returned. He was somewhat afraid of Mrs. Cliff. He believed her to be an honorable woman who would not break her word, but still he did not know all her ideas in regard to her duty. She might think there was some one to whom she ought to confide what had happened, and what was expected to happen, and if she should do this, there was no reason why he should not, some day, descry a ship in the offing with treasure-hunters on board.
Ralph gave him no concern at all, except that he was young, and the captain could foretell the weather much better than the probable actions of a youth.
But these passing anxieties never amounted to suspicions. It was far better to believe in Mrs. Cliff and Ralph, and he would do it; and every time he thought of the two, he determined to believe in them. As to Edna, there was no question about believing in her. He did so without consideration for or against belief.
The captain did not like his solitary life. How happy he would have been if they could all have remained here; if the guano could have been brought without the crew of the schooner knowing that there were people in the caves; if the negroes could have carried the bags of gold; if every night, after having superintended their labors, he could have gone back to the caves, which, with the comforts he could have brought from Lima, would have made a very habitable home; if—But these were reflections which were always doomed to banishment as soon as the captain became aware of the enthralment of their charm, and sturdily onward, endeavoring to fix his mind upon some better sailor's knot with which to tie up his bundles, or to plant his feet where his tracks would soon be obliterated by the incoming waves, the strong man trudged, bearing bravely the burden of his golden hopes.