After passing through heavy sacking, double-thick, which served to block the passage of the least rays of light to the outer world, they found themselves in a long, quite roomy cabin, with a small electric dome light giving enough light to show the heavy black curtains tightly fastened over the circular ports, or windows. Well furnished with several easy chairs of rattan, with bunks that folded into the woodwork of the side walls and left a cushioned seat for use when they were not open, and with a veritable arsenal of automatic revolvers, rifles and knives of many shapes on the shelves of a cupboard at one end, the cabin looked both comfortable and dangerous.

A tall, slender man was replacing some weapon in the cupboard. He turned as the chums entered; their guide stood blocking the doorway behind them.

The occupant of the cabin was of a Spanish type, with dark skin and sharp, black eyes, as black as his smoothly brushed hair. His movements were abrupt and nervous and his voice, when he spoke was curt and rather high in pitch, though kept at a low level of volume.

“Sit!” said the tall man, motioning toward the wall benches; the chums obeyed while the tall one dropped into a rattan chair and regarded them steadily.

“You came here to get buried treasure,” said the man in the chair. “Who told you there was treasure here?”

Nicky became the spokesman and related the story; he told how they had been cruising toward the Ten Thousand Island Archipelago.

“For why?” demanded their inquisitor sharply.

Nicky was about to open his lips; his eye caught a gesture of Tom’s. While leaning forward, chin on hand, elbow on knee, as if listening alertly, Tom was scratching his left ear absently. Cliff was folding his arms.

It was the secret sign-manual of their order—the Mystery Boys—by which Tom signified a call for a communication by gesture and Cliff, by folding his arms, indicated his agreement. Nicky folded his arms at the same instant, and then saw Tom grasp his coat lapel in his left hand. That sign meant the third section of their secret oath—“Telling all, I tell nothing!” Nicky clasped his hands on his knees, a sign that he agreed.

It all took place without apparent meaning and in a very brief time so that, although he made a sign of impatience, the tall man and his companion, leaning against the wall by the companionway, seemed to discern no hidden meaning in 

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