“But they do,” insisted Grant. “I know they do.”
“And I think so, too,” exclaimed John. “Let’s go to work.”
CHAPTER XVI
THE RIDDLE
Days passed and weeks rolled by. The four friends and their colored companion still remained on the mysterious island. The flag still flew from the hill and all day long one or another of the boys kept a lookout from a spot near by. No boat came to rescue them, however, and the little party of castaways had almost come to believe that the rest of their days were to be spent on this little island somewhere in an unknown sea.
Once John on watch had seen smoke. Far off on the horizon appeared a smudge from the funnels of some passing steamer. It was too far away however to discover their signal or even to see their island. He had watched it hopefully until it finally disappeared over the rim of the ocean. That was the only sign of a vessel that had been sighted so far.
However, the boys were not in want. Their clothes were becoming ragged and their hair unkempt, but they were well fed and healthy. If it had not been for the fact that they knew they could not leave they might have been measurably contented. They were now living in the cave as snug and comfortable as could be desired. The fact that they were short of clothes did not bother them, either, for the weather was warm and clothes were more of a burden than a necessity.
As yet they had discovered no treasure. Hour after hour they had puzzled over the mysterious numbers on the parchment, but as yet no one had been able to solve their riddle.
“It makes me mad,” said John one day. “I sit and stare at those crazy figures until it seems as if I must go crazy myself. I never get even a clew as to what they mean, but at the same time the more I study them the more sure I am that they have a meaning.”
“And I, too,” agreed Grant. “I know they mean something. I’m sure of it.”