"And, what was more astounding, as we made a fire to cook us food, there pa.s.sed by us bearing on their backs strangely woven baskets, a caravan of these half-naked barbarians. And, when we motioned to show them we would see within his basket, one of these lowered his basket.

"What we saw astounded us much, for it was all filled with finely-beaten gold. The fellow had as much of it as a stout sailor would be able to carry. And there were many such baskets.

"When I made as though I would take the gold, he became very angry, and would have struck me down with an ugly spear which he bore.

"But when I laughed, making as though it were a joke, he gave me a small piece, the which is at this time in my possession, as proof that what I have written here is truth and no lie.

"Now this island I have shown on the map, the nether side upon which I am writing, as a star with six points to it; though the sh.o.r.e marking nor the extent of the island is as yet unknown to any but those barbarians who live upon it."

There ended the main portion of the story, but in a bracket at the bottom was written:

"In some other place will be found the account of our miraculous return from this strange and mysterious island of many barbarians and much gold."

As Curlie finished, he glanced up with a sigh.

The girl was staring at him so intently that he could not but think she was attempting to read his thoughts.

"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed at last.

"Yes," said Curlie quickly, "you expressed it even better before. It's great!"

He looked away. His head was in a whirl It was the long-lost map; he was sure of that now. He remembered the figures he had copied from that other reproduction. They were blurred and unreadable on this one. Should he tell her?

His lips opened but no sound came out. No, he would not tell her, not at this time. There might be some other way.

"Your brother and his chum," he said evenly, "have gone in search of that island of gold."

She stared at him in silence.

"If they haven't gone already, they may be gone before we reach the coast," he continued. "They will probably go in Alfred Brightwood's seaplane."

"Yes, yes," she broke her spell of silence. "That is the way they would go. It's--it's a wonderful plane! You--you don't think anything could happen to them, do you?"

"Supposing they do not find the island?"

"But they will."

"It is to be hoped that they will find an island--some island."

"It's a wonderful plane. It would cross the Atlantic!" She clasped and unclasped her hands.

"But supposing," he rose from his chair in his excitement, "supposing they don't find the island exactly where they expect to find it?

Supposing, in their eagerness to find that gold, they circle and circle and circle in search of the island until there is no longer any gas in the tank to bring them home."

"Oh, you don't think that!" She sprang to her feet and, gripping his arm to steady herself, looked up into his eyes. There was a heartbreaking appeal in those blue eyes of hers.

"I think," said Curlie steadily, "that my pal, Joe Marion, and I, if we find them gone when we get there, will take your father's speedy yacht and go for a little pleasure trip in the general direction they have taken. Then if they chance to get into trouble, we can give them a lift.

Besides," there came a twinkle in his eye, which was wholly lost on the girl, "they might need the yacht to carry home the gold."

"Oh, will you?" she exclaimed, gripping his arm until it hurt. "That will be grand of you. For you know," she faltered, "I--I feel a little bit responsible for what they have done and if anything should happen I could never forgive myself. I--I'll tell you about it some time."

For a moment they stood there in silence, she steadying herself from the rock of the train by clinging to his arm.

"I think," she said soberly, "if you go in father's yacht, that I shall go along with you."

"And I think," said Curlie in a decided tone, "that you won't."

She said not another word but had he taken a look at her face just then he would have found there the expression that he had seen there before, the expression which she had inherited from her father, the self-made millionaire.

That night in his berth, as the train rushed along on its eastward journey, Curlie narrated to Joe Marion all the events which had led up to the present moment, and as much of his conclusions as he had told to Gladys Ardmore.

"So you see, Joe, old boy," he concluded, "if those young millionaires are away before we arrive we're destined to take a little trip which may have an adventure or two in it; that is, at least I will."

"Count me in," said Joe soberly. "I go anywhere you do."

"Good!" exclaimed Curlie, gripping his hand. "And in the end," he concluded, "I think we shall have told the world in a rather effective way that the air must be free for the important messages; that Uncle Sam has the right of way in the air as well as on land or sea and that he has ways of defending those rights."

At that they turned over, to lie there listening to the click-click of wheels over rails until sleep claimed them.

CHAPTER XII

OUT TO SEA IN A c.o.c.kLESh.e.l.l

Darkness was falling when at last Curlie and Joe reached the station at Landensport. In spite of the fact that they had had no supper and were weary from travel, Curlie insisted on going at once to the hangar where the _Stormy Petrel_, Alfred Brightwood's seaplane, was kept.

"Yes," said the keeper of the hangar, "they hopped off six hours ago.

Seemed to be preparing for somethin' of a journey; they filled the tanks with gas and loaded her cabin full of things to eat. Some sort of a picnic, I reckon. Strange part of it was," he said reflectively, "I watched 'em as they went and sure's I'm standin' here they shot out to sea, straight as an arrow, and far as you could see 'em they was going right on. Couldn't be tryin' to cross the Atlantic, but you can never tell what'll get into that Brightwood boy's head. He's darin', he is.

Jest some picnic, though, I reckon."

"Some picnic all right!" said Curlie emphatically. "Some picnic for all of us!"

"Eh? What?" the keeper turned on him quickly.

Curlie did not answer.

"Vincent Ardmore went with him, I suppose," Curlie said after a moment's silence.

"Of course. Just them two."

"Was the plane equipped with wireless?"

"Yes. They spent two days tending to that; seemed to be mighty particular about it."

"Yes, of course they would."