This at least was specific and definite. North northeast we went by the compass, slashing our way through the heavy vines and shrubbery inch by inch. We dipped over a hillock and came out of the jungle into the sand before the end of the spit was hidden by higher ground.
"Cast three long steps Souwest to Big Rock and dig on landward side."
Three steps to the southwest brought me deeper into the sand. There was no big rock in sight.
I looked at Tom. He laughed, as he had a habit of doing when in a difficulty.
"I guess we'll have to try again, Jack."
Gallagher broke in, touching his hat in apology:
"Not meaning to butt in, Mr. Sedgwick, but mightn't the rock be covered with sand? Give a hundred years and a heap of sand would wash into this cove here."
"There's sense in that. Anyhow, we'll try out your theory, Gallagher."
I marked a space about twelve by twelve upon which to begin operations. It took us an hour and a half to satisfy ourselves that nothing was hidden there.
I marked a second square, a third, and finally a fourth. Dusk fell before we had finished digging the last. Tired and dispirited we pulled back to the yacht.