Billy completed his account of the matter with no diminution in his air of elation:
“Here, then,” he said, waving aloft Exhibit C to emphasize his meaning, “I present to you the chart which the late Mr. Abernethey left us as a guide to the spot where the treasure lies secreted. It is plain enough for even your eyes to read, I fancy. The pencil outline is to serve us as a map, which we are to follow to the gold. It represents—roughly, I take it—the sky-line of the country round about. As I had only just completed the drawing before I came back to you, I’ve had no time to compare it with the hills hereabouts; but I’m certain none the less. It’s a matter of inference. There remains now only the task of finding out what marks the precise point of the hiding-place on this line. It seems to me that some one of you with knowledge of music ought to work out that trifling detail. If not, of course I can do it—in time.”
CHAPTER XVI
THE HOLD
BILLY’S vanity was well content with the compliments accorded him by his friends, who gave the appreciation that was justly his due for persistent effort when they had wearied. It was David whose enthusiasm led him to suggest an immediate trip on the lake, to learn whether or not they could identify the features of the topography shown by the chart.
The launch, to which they had been reduced by the loss of the Scherzo, had a speed of twelve miles an hour at its best and under Jake’s guidance it carried them swiftly enough northward to the broadest part of the lake, whence they might readily study the shore in all directions. Already, each had familiarized himself with the chart, so that it was held clearly in a mental picture, while he looked about over the sweep of sky-line critically, seeking some resemblance in the rise and fall of mountain and hill and in the curving of the shore to the irregular tracing made by Billy from the music. As the boat ran in a wide circle, first one and then another caught here or there some trick of configuration that sent him eagerly to compare it with the chart in Billy’s hands. But, in each instance, the hope was doomed to swift disappointment, for vital divergence was revealed between the two. There was some disagreement, too, as to whether or not the map had reference to the windings of the shore, or to the crests and valleys of the hills and mountains, as they showed in relief against the sky. Billy Walker was certain that the chart had been drawn to represent the sky-line, and Saxe was of the same opinion—chiefly, perhaps, because of the other’s reasoning in which he had come to have great confidence, if not absolute reliance. Billy argued that the sky-line would be the natural guide on which to depend, inasmuch as it was bolder, less open to doubts. The indication received from this, he pointed out, could be at once applied to the shore, since the first knowledge gleaned had declared that the treasure was at the bed of the lake. Both Roy and David, however, maintained that the chart should be taken as copying the indentations in a portion of the shore-line. David offered evidence in support of this contention to the effect that, whatever the sky-line might show as to itself, there could come from it no hint as to the distance from the shore at which the gold was lying. Billy admitted this, and then to his adversary’s chagrin, exposed the fact that the like difficulty must exist in the event of the map being of the shore-line itself—which was not to be gainsaid. It was Saxe, who, at last, made the discovery of importance. He had been staring fixedly at one point of the horizon for a full minute; then, he moved over to Billy’s side, where he alternately regarded the chart and the horizon for a considerable interval.
“Look here, Billy!” he exclaimed, abruptly. “Just take a squint at Mount Tabor, over there; I learned the name from Jake the other day.” He pointed to the west, a little to the north of them, where one of the highest of the peaks of the distant mountains loomed in naked majesty.