"We don't know where it is," said Bob. "We might search for forty years and not find a trace of the treasure."
"Not at all," put in Dave sharply. "Find an island full of caves, and we have the location. I am sure of that from what the outcast native imparted to me."
"And I," announced Pat Stoodles suddenly. "Begorra, I'm the lad who can put my finger right on the one particular cave where the threasure is stored."
All hands looked at Stoodles in a sort of dubious amazement.
"Is that true, Mr. Stoodles?" asked Doctor Barrell.
"Shure it is."
"How can you know that?" inquired Dave.
"The outcast tould me."
"Told you. Why, he was dead when you saw him," said Dave.
"The outcast tould me," reiterated Pat solemnly. "Not another wurred now. I am spaking from facts. Get afloat, make for the lasht of the three western islands. Land me. I'll take you to the threasure blindfold."