“I meant get to work with the apparatus,” said Dutch, smiling.
“What are you laughing at?” said Mr Parkley, impatiently.
“At your despondency,” replied Dutch. “Old Oakum was right. The schooner’s lying right athwart the galleon.”
“What!” cried Mr Parkley, excitedly. “Nonsense!—you are half-mad.”
“Over some things, perhaps,” said Dutch, gloomily; “but sane enough over this. Mind, I don’t say that there is any treasure there, but the old fellow has anchored us right across an old wreck.”
“Give me that tube,” cried Mr Parkley, and he thrust it down into the water excitedly, looking in all directions.
“There’s nothing there,” he cried. “I examined that place before.”
“But it did not occur to us that the weeds had grown up and hidden the timbers. Now you watch that clump lying just under the schooner’s keel. Do you see what I mean?”
“Yes, I see.”
“Then keep your eye upon it,” said Dutch, as he crept softly to the bows of the jolly-boat, and, taking one of half-a-dozen great boulders that were used for ballast, he heaved it overboard with a good splash, and then watched its effects.