But Mac’s proposal was carried out. The schooner was headed shoreward. The chase had carried the boat five or six miles seaward, and the Keys were just in sight.
Hal, in the camp, had a long day of it. Awake by midday, he immediately began the work assigned him in carrying out the brilliant idea conceived by Bob the evening before, one of the reasons he had remained ashore. Securing a piece of light colored wrapping paper, he charred the edges of it until it was about a foot square. Then, after prolonged search, he found a red pasteboard box which he soaked in water until he had some carmine fluid. With this and a stick, he laboriously inscribed something on the charred sheet.
This done, he took a small wooden box, placed a lemon in it, and then carried the box to Oak Tree Point. Here, he stepped off a certain number of paces in line with the trees and digging a hole in the sand about three feet deep, deposited in it the box and the lemon.
It was six o’clock when the Three Sisters reached the cove again. The tale of the battle with the tarpon came first, and then the evening meal. It was well after eight o’clock when Bob, lighting a candle, asked Jerry to follow him into the tent.
“Jerry,” began Bob, solemnly, “I suppose you know the time’s up.”
“Yo’ mean dat ole colored pirate’s papah?” asked Jerry, nervously.
“I certainly do,” said Bob positively. “But I know you didn’t find it. Jerry, you lied to me. You told me you wrote what the Black Pirate said on regular paper. You didn’t!”
“No, sah. Ah tole de truff. It was reg’lah papah—writin’ papah.”
“And you lost it?”