No sail was in sight, but not half a mile to windward a wreck drifted.
“Mercy on us!” cried Frank. “Can it be the Aurelian?”
The submarine boat ran nearer to the wreck. Then upon the stern was read the name “Aurelian.”
She was a shattered, water-logged hulk.
Not a sign of her crew was visible; she was hailed repeatedly, but no answer came back. Even as the voyagers were gazing at her she took a sudden plunge and went down.
After the last ripples had died away upon the spot where she disappeared, Frank turned the Dolphin’s head homeward.
Nothing was ever seen again of Gilbert Parker, of Captain Warren, or any of the Aurelian’s crew. It was safe to say that all had met a deserving fate in the waters of the Gulf of Honduras.
Homeward bound was the Dolphin with her Spanish gold.
Readestown was safely reached at last. Then followed a division of the treasure. It made all rich enough.
Clifford and Hartley returned to their homes happy men. Frank Reade, Jr., went back to his shops and his plans.