boys tell me
to-day, he must have died soon after."

"Didn't he give any hint of where this fight and robbery had taken
place?" asked Fred.

"No, except that Mark says the man often spoke of Bartanet Shoals. Of
course, that may have meant something and it may have meant nothing.
Still, judging from where the boat was found, it probably was somewhere
within fifty miles of here."

"Fifty miles," murmured Bill. "That's an awful lot of territory to
cover."

"Wasn't there anything in the little boat to give a clue?" asked Teddy.

"Not a thing except that it had the name '_Ranger_' painted on the
stern. That showed that it must have come from a large boat of that
name."

"Are you sure that Mark didn't tell you anything else that might give us
a hint?" asked Lester. "Try to remember, Dad."

"Well," mused his father, "I didn't question him very much at the time,
because I felt as he did, that it was just the foolish raving of a man
who was out of his head."

"How far is Milton from here?" questioned Bill.

"Only a matter of twenty-five miles or so," was the answer.

"We'll go over and see Mark the first chance we get," said Lester
decidedly. "He may drop something when we put him through the third
degree that may put us on the trail."

"That's a good idea," commented his father. "Mark's growing pretty old
now and his memory isn't as good as it was, but he may remember
something that will be of use. At any rate there's no harm in trying."

"We have something to work with now," said Fred cheerily. "We've been
able to check up Ross' story and know that he wasn't dreaming. Then,
too, we have the name of the man who actually found Mr. Montgomery when
he was set adrift, if that's the way he came into the open boat."

"But there must be more," persisted Lester. "What did you mean, Dad,
when you said that the gold wasn't buried but that it was hidden?"

"You're right," admitted his father, "there is more that happened some
time later."

CHAPTER XI

THE SMUGGLERS' FLIGHT

The boys were all on edge as they awaited further developments.

"Six years ago," resumed Mr. Lee, "an old sailor, named Tom Bixby, who
had sailed on the same ship with me in the old days, drifted down this
way, and hearing that I had charge of the lighthouse came over to see
me. Tom was always a decent sort of fellow, and I was glad to see him
and talk over the old times when we had sailed the seas together.

"He stayed here a couple