. "Look at us," he marveled. "Ready to go. No
trouble, no strain, no pain. Ever see an expedition get off to such a
smooth start? We can't lose, Scotty. After a beginning like this we
couldn't help finding the treasure."

Scotty grinned his agreement. "I didn't ask," he said, "but I wouldn't
be surprised if the good Dr. Ernst hasn't done some advance diving and
marked the statue's location with a buoy hung around its neck, just to
make things easier for us!"

"Twenty fathoms," Rick said reflectively. "That's a lot of water.
Besides, we don't know how accurate Captain Campion's guess was. We may
be getting into water that's too deep for us."

Which, though unknowing, was one of the most prophetic remarks he had
ever made.

CHAPTER II

The Scuba Slip

Charlotte Amalie had color. It was an old community, dating back to
Danish ownership of the Virgin Islands, and there was a feeling of
antiquity underneath the color of the tropics. There was no sharp lines
to buildings; everything had a pleasant weathered look.

"Friendly folks," Scotty observed, after the tenth passer-by had bidden
them a good day. "Doesn't seem to matter whether they're rich or poor.
They look happy, and they're certainly polite."

"I like it," Rick agreed. "Those colored roofs get me." He stumbled on a
cobblestone and added, "But the street could stand improving. Cobbles
are fine for horses, maybe, but they're hard on cars."

"What do they do here for a living?" Scotty asked. "Wish we had Chahda
along. He could reel off the straight dope from his _Worrold
Alm-in-ack_." Their Indian friend, Chahda, was at home in Bombay and
they hadn't heard from him in some time. His ability to quote from _The
World Almanac_, which he had memorized, had caused the boys considerable
amusement, even while they appreciated having a kind of walking
encyclopedia with them.

They passed a fruit stand where women were shopping for mangoes,
soursops, and other delicious-looking things, including sugar cane.
"That's part of it," Rick said. "Sugar. This is also the headquarters
for bay rum."

Scotty's eyebrows went up. "_Bay_ rum?" He stepped out of the way to let
an ancient woman on a donkey go by. "What's the bay part of it?"

Rick shrugged. "Search me. Anyway, you don't drink it, you put it on
your face. I guess it was originally distilled from bayberry trees or
something. Anyway--" He stopped suddenly as Scotty's fingers sank into
his arm.

"Look!" Sc