"Not more than a few hundred yards," replied Constantio; "I don't see what a big strapping fellow like you is making so much fuss over packing a fortune that little distance."
"It's a wonder you wouldn't tackle the job yourself," said Wells indignantly, as he and the engineer heaved the sack into the boat. "I guess you are scared though. I always knew that Spaniards were cowards."
Infuriated as much by the truth of the insult as stung by the stigma it conveyed, Constantio, pale with fury, sprang at the sailor with his knife drawn. He sprang back again with the same agility and crouched on his haunches like a tiger-cat, as the sailor whipped out a revolver and leveled it at him.
"Now you be careful what you are doing, Concertina," he said, "or I'll have to send you where you won't make no more trouble."
As he spoke there came a loud report from the direction of the camp.
It was followed by another and another.
"They have discovered us!" cried Constantio, seizing hold of the boat and trying to drag it off.
At the same instant the two sailors, who had been left behind to bring a second sack of the treasure, appeared, racing over the top of the sand dune.
"They heard us as we were moving the sack," cried one of them; "something jangled, I guess, and—"
"They awakened and fired at us,—see here," he held up a bleeding arm, "broke my elbow I guess."