, and when all was ready,
he plunged into the water and disappeared from view. The grotesque
figures floating down with him made Piang want to laugh. They looked
like huge devil-fish, and he wondered how they could stand the clumsy
dress. After he had led the men to the boat he came to the top and
swam with eyes down. If there were more boats, he wanted to find them
first. The men on the bank were watching his agile movements with
interest. With a shout he disappeared again. Yes, yes, there was a
second boat. And as he circled the sunken craft he spied another near
it. Striking out for the shore, he swam to where the general and the
lieutenant were waiting.

"What is he chattering about, Ricardo?" asked the general.

"He says he has seen the other two boats, sir."

"This is certainly a fortunate discovery, Lewis. I shall make a
report to Washington on the matter, and you shall be commended for
your sagacity."

The young officer flushed with pleasure, but replied:

"Thank you, sir, but I think the boy Piang deserves all the credit."

It was many days before the task was completed. The rice had remained
a mystery to the last, and the officers puzzled over the fact that it
had not rotted entirely. The first report from the divers confirmed
the rumor that the boats had been scuttled, presumably to prevent
the Americans from capturing them. They had all been loaded with
rice packed in sacks, and secured in tin-lined boxes. Until recently
it had been protected from the water, but something heavy from above
had fallen on them, crushing the outside coverings. The tortoise had
done the rest.

Another surprise awaited the troops. A diver brought up a handful of
Krag cartridges.

"This _is_ a mystery," said Lieutenant Lewis. "The Spanish never used
Krags; we were the first to bring them to this part of the world,
weren't we?"

A shadow crossed General Beech's face. Quietly he ordered the divers to
search for more ammunition. Silently they waited, and Lewis wondered
what had brought the sad expression to his chief's face. When the
divers brought up a wooden box half filled with cartridges, the two
officers bent over it; on one side, branded in the wood, was plainly
visible:

"Depot Quartermaster, San Francisco, Cal."

"I thought so," murmured the general.

"Well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed Lewis. "The public
has been wondering for years what became of the thousands of rounds
of ammunition General Bushi