t set his heart to beating wildly. On
the stern board of the boat was cut the name "_Good Hope_!"

CHAPTER XXV.

THE DEAD MAN'S HOARD.

The "_Good Hope_!"

What a crowd of memories the name brought buzzing about the boy! The
lone derelict, the figure in the mouldering cabin, the--the plan in his
pocket!

With fingers that trembled Rob drew out the solution of the cryptogram
and read it over.

Then he held his head in his hands a moment to keep it from whirling
round.

Could it be possible that this was the island where the hoard of
century-old ivory was buried? Had he stumbled by a complete accident
upon the cache that had sent one man to his death?

Then he recalled that on his trip of exploration he had noticed a big
dead cypress on the other side of the island. But if this was the
veritable island where the whalers had buried their ivory, why was the
boat lying there mouldering on the beach? Why had they not left again?

The more the boy thought of it, the more mysterious and inexplicable the
whole thing became. He resolved to go back to the dead cypress and
follow the directions of the cryptic message of the captain of the _Good
Hope_.

As has been said, the island was not a large one, and he was not long in
reaching the gaunt, dead tree. Somehow he felt a chill go through him as
he stood beneath its leafless gray limbs. It reminded him oddly of that
skeleton in the deck house of the derelict.

But he pulled himself together and struck off into the woods in a
direction that, by using his watch as a compass, he knew to be the west.
The undergrowth was thick, but after going a few paces, he reached an
open space.

In the centre of this was a sight that made his heart jump and then beat
wildly. Strewn in every direction were big tusks of yellow ivory,
evidently lying just as they had been dug from the ground.

Rob was still contemplating them when his eye caught the flutter of a
rag of cloth at the edge of the open space. Attracted by a curiosity he
could not account for, he made his way toward it. If the sight of the
ivory had made him jump, what he now saw sent a chill of horror down his
spine. The rag that had fluttered had been part of the clothing of what
had once been two men.

Both lay close together, their bones showing where the cloth had worn
away under Time's finger. A pair of rusty pistols lying by each showed
how they had come to their death. The whole tragedy was as clear to Rob