Sunrise found Nicky awake and alert. He shook his comrades.
“Up—up, daisy, the sun is in the sky!” he cried, “and we—we, daisy, for treasure we shall try!”
“That’s good sense but terrible poetry!” laughed Cliff.
“I don’t care,” Nicky replied, “Tom, cook up some ham, and a rasher of bacon, and about twenty eggs and some cocoa.”
“Where do you expect me to get them?” demanded his chum, laughing.
“Charge them!” Nicky exulted. “Charge them at the nearest store. Our credit ought to be good. By noon we’ll have gold enough to pay the National Debt!”
“Hooray!” responded Cliff, “gold—gold—gold!”
And by eight o’clock they were in the tender.
“Treasure bound!” Nicky grinned.