half the cipher is in New York—or with Nicky’s uncle.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Nicky laughed. “I got him to let me take a tracing of it. I held the paper against a lamp shade and traced over it. Here’s the ‘other half of the cipher!’ See what you make of it.”

He dragged a leather billfold from his coat pocket and extracted a neatly folded paper. The others stared at it.

"Was the original torn down on the side where this jagged line shows?” demanded Tom.

“Yep!” responded Nicky, “and you see it’s on the side opposite to where Sam’s paper is ripped away. I think they’d just fit together!”

“So do I,” Cliff agreed. “But even if you have this half, there are things to consider; but let’s see if we can remember the other piece and sketch it on this envelope,” he drew a letter from his pocket. 

“Here—here’s a pencil!”

They got to work. On the sketch Nicky had already made there were several dots at one side, toward the top. Below them was the word “Dip” and under that were more of the little straggly blotches with a faint line starting at the left-hand side and close to a small cross marked “Reck.”

“That word ought to be ‘wreck’ I think,” Nicky suggested. They nodded.

“And here, you see, is a nautical direction—but I don’t think it’s the same as on the other paper.”

“It isn’t!” Cliff stated. “The other was some degrees North Latitude, but this is West Longitude. Now—what was the set of figures on the other map?”

Nicky shook his head.

“I recall—let’s see—was it thirty degrees and twelve minutes——”

“You’re away off,” Tom broke in. “It was twenty-five degrees and twelve minutes and thirty seconds.”

“No,” Cliff argued. “It was—no, it couldn’t have been twelve degrees North—that would be in South America, I think—anyway, if I recall my map, it wouldn’t be where the pirates used to go.”

“I wish we could remember it,” Nicky said. “Then we could go and get the treasure.”

“Maybe,” Cliff hesitated. “Maybe not. It would be like stealing to 

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