“Now the puzzle is—how can we get close enough to tell?” Nicky said, in an eager voice; he was none the worse for his experience.
“Could one of us make a dive?” Tom speculated. All three were on their knees, heedless of the sharp coral bits, peering intently through limpid water into a mysteriously dark depression.
“I could almost touch bottom; where I was,” Nicky exclaimed. “Tom, you hold one arm, Cliff, you brace and hold the other. I’ll let myself down——”
“Don’t bother,” came a sharp voice, unexpectedly, from behind them.
They looked up, startled, dismayed. Quickly their eyes took in the scene. Just back of their own tender lay the boat of El Libertad. Quietly it must have been sculled up, while their attention was focused on Nicky and his find. Close behind them, smiling in a half sneering way, was Mr. Coleson, with Senor Ortiga beside him.
“We thought you might have misled us,” Mr. Coleson said. “We took the logical step to give you a free hand, and here you have exercised it—for which we are very—very grateful.”
“As for the treasure,” added Senor Ortiga, “never mind diving for it. Here comes Jim.”
“No, never mind,” added Mr. Coleson. “We will attend to it!”
CHAPTER XXII
GOLD—GOLD—GOLD
“What are we going to do about these lads?” asked Mr. Coleson as the colored man, Jim, went back to the boat for several spades and an axe.