he table a small, locked cash-box, made of
light steel. He set it carefully in the center of the table, and then
took a seat by Martin's side.

Ruth spoke.

"First of all, we had better tell the whole story of the _Good Luck_,
and the code, and the log, to Mr. Blake. It is unfair to keep him in
darkness any longer."

"Yes--that will be best," said Captain Dabney. "I will tell you about
finding the wreck. But Billy must finish the tale--he is the more used
to yarn-spinning. Billy, have you the box there?"

"Yes--here," answered the hunchback.

He rapped the cash-box with his fingers, and the captain nodded at the
metallic sound. Then Little Billy drew a key from his pocket and
unlocked the box. He threw an envelope out upon the table.

Martin blinked. He knew that plain wrapper. Yesterday afternoon, old
Smatt had handed him that envelope, and last night at the Black Cruiser
he, himself, had delivered it to Captain Carew. Now, it was here
before his eyes!

Little Billy chuckled at his amazement. Even Ruth smiled at him.

"Hello! Our friend seems to recognize Exhibit A," bantered the
hunchback. "Well, Blake, without waiting for counsel's advice, I will
admit that you probably have seen this very envelope before. But I bet
the contents are stranger to your popping eyes!"

With that, Little Billy spread the envelope's contents upon the table.

Martin saw a plain sheet of paper, written upon by Smatt's angular
hand, and a strip of some kind of animal skin, or gut, about 4x5 inches
in size, and of a leprous-white color. The skin was covered with what
he took to be a multitude of faint, red scratches, but upon a second
look he saw that the scratches were figures.

Ruth indicated the skin with her finger.

"The secret of Fire Mountain," she said.

"Yes, the secret of Fire Mountain," echoed Little Billy. "And this--"
he pointed to the paper containing Smatt's writing--"is the secret
kindly bared for us by that genial gray vulture of the law, Mr. Smatt.
The envelope also contained Wild Bob's clearance papers--cleared for
Papeete, the slick devil--but we presented them to the gulls off the
Farallones. They can go a-voyaging on them if they wish."

"A little thing like a clearance will not keep Bob Carew in port,"
interposed Captain Dabney.

"No, I suppose not," replied Little Billy, his face sobering. "He is
on our heels now, I dare say. However, we have had the satisfaction of
putting a good o