“Use us?” cried Nicky. “Use us for what?”
In his turn Ortiga smiled enigmatically.
Mr. Coleson spoke. “You see, boys,” he said, “we have the maps, and we have cruised among the islands for days—but we haven’t located the Dipper Islands—and, of course, no treasure is found. You must have the clue we lack. We will share with you after you help us to find the treasure.”
“Supposing we won’t help?” inquired Nicky defiantly. “It’s ours by right. And, suppose we don’t even know a clue?”
“In the first case, we will find ways to make you tell,” snapped Senor Ortiga, with a clenching fist crumpling the hand of cards he held. “In the latter case—we won’t believe you!”
Nicky turned with helpless dismay to his two chums. They still had their arms folded.
“Say nothing!” was the sign Tom made and Nicky nodded.
“I suppose my brother has learned from you about the treasure,” said Ortiga, rising. “That is what he would use you for. Well—we will be just a little ahead of him—as usual!”
For once, as they sprawled on the cushioned side seats which had to serve as bunks, the three comrades admitted to their own secret selves, although not to each other, that there seemed to be no way out of this dilemma. For once their self-reliance was a very small spark, indeed!
“But the right always wins out somehow,” Nicky consoled himself. “If it didn’t then the world would have been smashed up long ago!”