"But what was Bucks doing there?"
"That's a guess. Here is mine. It doesn't cost you a cent even if you don't accept it. After he had made the cache we'll say that he hiked off to try to find a settlement. Very likely he had no idea where to look and he found progress through the jungle impossible. After a while he wandered back, half starved and exhausted. Perhaps his idea may have been that the Truxillo was still on the ground. If so, he may have wanted to offer the gold in exchange for his life. Anyhow, back he comes, to find that he is too late. The brig has gone. In his delirium he has some notion of digging up the treasure to buy food. He gets the first sack of bullion up and then quits, too weak to do any more."
"Sounds reasonable enough. The chief point is that you've found the gold. I'll order a force ashore to help you."
There is something in the very thought of treasure-trove that unsettles the most sane. Not a word was said to anybody except Tom about what I had found, but everybody on board was sure the bullion had been found.
Before the eyes of each man danced shining yellow ingots and pieces of eight. We could tell it by the eagerness with which they volunteered for shore duty.
I chose Yeager, the chief engineer—he was a lank Yankee named Stubbs—and Jamaica Ginger, as we called our second fireman. With us we took ashore a stout box, in which to pack the loose gold.
Those left on board cheered us as we pulled toward the beach, and we answered lustily their cheer. Every man jack of us was in the best of spirits.
By this time it was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still very hot. I was careful not to let anybody work long at a stretch. As the bars of gold were uncovered we packed them in the box brought for the purpose. Every time a shovel disclosed a new find there was fresh jubilation.
While Alderson and I were resting under the shade of a mangrove the sailor made a suggestion.
"You don't expect to get all the treasure out to-night, do you, sir?"