"Right," said Jeremy. "And now that I think about it, I believe this is the very island! Let's see—the bay was shaped this way——" He had seized a charred stick from the hearth and was drawing on the floor.
"Two narrow points, with quite a stretch of water inside—a rounded cove up here, and a mitten-shaped cove over here. And the anchor was drawn—wait a minute—right here. Why, Bob, look here! That's the same rounded cove with the beach where the sloop anchored that night they got me!"
Bob could hardly contain himself. "I remember!" he said. "And the dot, with the word 'Watter' was one and a half finger-joints northeast of the bay. Let's see, the bay itself was about four joints long, wasn't it? Or a little over? Anyhow, that would put the spring about—here."
"Allowing for our not being able to remember exactly the shape of the bay," Jeremy put in, "that's just where the spring should be. Bob, this is the island! And now that cross-mark between the two straight lines—two finger-joints northwest of the anchorage-cove, it was. That's just about here." He marked the spot on the floor with his stick.
"Now we've got it all down. And if that cross-mark shows where the treasure is——" Jeremy paused and looked at Bob, his eyes shining.
"Where would that be—up on the hill somewhere?" asked Bob breathlessly.
"About three-quarters of a mile south of the spring—right on the ridge," Jeremy answered.
"When shall we start?" Bob asked, his voice husky with excitement.
"Wait a bit," counselled Jeremy. "We daren't tell father or Tom, for they'd think it just a wild-goose chase, and we'd have to promise not to leave the cabin. You know it is an improbable sort of yarn. Besides, we'd better go careful. Do you know who I think is at the head of that crew, over in the creek?"
"Who?" whispered Bob.