At a little before three on Tuesday afternoon a regular flotilla of boats might have been seen to swing around Toller’s Rock. I doubt if it was seen, for the Rock and the shore beyond all the way to the farther side of Nobody’s Island was apparently empty of life, if one excepts the gulls and the land birds. Perhaps the word procession would be better than flotilla, for first came the Crystal Spring, wobbling along under her big gray mainsail, then the Corsair, floating gracefully at the end of a towline, and finally the Faith, dipping and rolling a little in the manner of young and playful dories. The Faith was Jack’s boat, a small, pea-green lapstreak dory that had spent most of its life in Herrick’s Cove and was now palpably excited by its tremendous adventure. The sloop was brought around into the wind near the mouth of Clam River and as close to the shore as Jack dared take her on a falling tide and the anchor was dropped. Then Hal and Bee tumbled into the launch and, with the dory still in tow, ran up the river to the old pier. Here they made fast the Corsair and rowed back in the dory to the Crystal Spring. Then began the unloading of the supplies. Bee remained in the dory and Jack and Hal passed the things down to him to stow away. As fast as the dory was loaded Jack jumped in and took the oars and rowed to the shore. There, with bare legs, the boys removed the cargo from boat to beach. Four trips were necessary before everything had been landed. Bee declared proudly that he had forgotten nothing, and the others, viewing the sands, enthusiastically agreed.

“I guess you’ve got everything but a sewing machine and an automobile there,” said Hal.

The anchor was pulled up and the sloop half-drifted and half-sailed into the mouth of the river. The anchor went down again and the big sail was lowered and furled, Hal and Bee lending willing if inexperienced assistance. There was just room for the Crystal Spring to swing around with the tide in the new anchorage and in case of a blow she was fairly well protected. Even if she did settle her stern on the sand, Jack explained, it wouldn’t matter, since she would float clear again the next tide. Then the three boys tumbled once more into the dory and rowed to the old pier where the Corsair was snuggled. The launch, too, bore her share of the supplies, being laden with six long inch-and-a-half planks, five pounds of spikes and a hatchet. Working with a will, the boys soon had a three-foot platform laid on the old spiles. Hal declared that he didn’t see any use in having a wharf when the things were already landed, but Bee reminded him that there was the treasure to think about.

“It will be a heap easier to bring that chest of gold down here and lower it into the boat than it would be to get it into the dory and out again. You have to think of all those things, Hal. There’s nothing like looking ahead and being prepared.”

Hal laughed. “When you find that treasure, Bee,” he replied, “I’ll swim out to the sloop with it.”

Then they went around to where their goods littered the beach and considered the question of a location for the tent. The tent, a good-sized A of waterproof duck, had been loaned by Hal’s father. In fact, Bee had been very fortunate in not having had to purchase much of anything besides provisions. A pick, a shovel, a crowbar and a hatchet had also been loaned by Mr. Folsom; Mrs. Folsom had supplied blankets, pillows and cooking utensils; Jack had brought fishing lines, hooks and sinkers and Hal had added whatever of his possessions, including a shot-gun and a revolver, that Bee had seen fit to requisition. Even the planks had been obtained gratis, being some that had been left when repairs had been made to the Folsom wharves. Provisions Bee had had to pay for, but as he had obtained a liberal discount through Hal’s father, his capital had not been much depleted.

It was finally decided that the tent should be pitched on the southwest side of the hill at the edge of the grove. Jack pointed out that they would be shielded from the sun during the warmest part of the day and sheltered from rain storms as well by the crest of the hill and the trees. “There may not be any rain storms,” he said, “but if there are they’re likely to come from seaward. We’d better ditch around the upper side of the tent, too.”

It wasn’t easy to get the tent up on the place they had selected for it seemed that wherever they tried to drive a peg they struck ledge. But they finally succeeded and drew aside to admire their handiwork.

“That’s a corking tent,” said Bee. “And I’m glad it’s rain-proof, aren’t you?”

Jack agreed, but wondered whether it would not have been wiser to have had the opening face the west instead of the east. “If we have any very hot weather it’s going to be stifling in there.”

“That’s easy,” said Hal. “We can raise the sides of the tent around the bottom. Let’s get the stuff up here and think about supper. I’m getting starved. Bee was in such a rush to get away that I didn’t have time to eat a decent luncheon.”

“Eat!” Bee groaned. “I thought you’d never get through. That’s one thing that scares me a bit,” he confided to Jack as they descended to the beach. “We’ll have to go to town every day to buy food for that chap, I’m afraid.”

For the next twenty minutes they were busy toiling up the slope with boxes and bundles and trotting down again for more. The only pause came when Bee dropped a bag of lemons from the summit of his load and the elusive things rolled in every direction down-hill. Jack and Hal, glad to rest a minute, sat down and laughed while Bee, depositing the rest of his load on the ground, tried to round them up.

“I can only find eight of the pesky things,” he said at last, raising a perspiring face to his grinning companions. “Come on and help me you pair of gargoyles.”

“We’re tired,” said Hal. “We refuse to lend you any lemon aid.”

“Ow!” Bee collapsed to the ground and gave a spirited imitation of a boy having a fit. In the course of the performance he inadvertently upset the bag again and once more the lemons rolled away. Finally, Jack going to his assistance, all but two of the lemons were found and the routine began again.

“Some day,” panted Bee, as he trudged on up the hill with his bundles, “folks will find this island covered with a lemon grove and they’ll wonder, won’t they?”

When all the belongings were within the tent Hal raised the question of cooking arrangements. Hal had tried all day to confront Bee with some contingency not already provided for by that foresighted youth and so far had failed. He failed again in the present instance, too, for Bee answered promptly.

“Jack’s going to build a stone fire-place near the door here,” he said.

“Oh, am I?” laughed Jack. “How do you know I can?”

“You look like a mason,” replied Bee calmly. “Besides, if you don’t know how I’ll show you.”

“Then why don’t you do it yourself?” challenged Hal. “It seems to me you’re doing more bossing than work.”

“Somebody has to supply the brains, old Hal,” answered Bee cheerfully. “Come on and we’ll lug some stones for the mason.”

There were plenty of them but those that were of the proper size were mostly at the foot of the slope, and long before they had enough at the tent Hal was heard to murmur that for his part he thought it would have been a heap more sensible to have brought a cook-stove along!

But when the fire-place was finished even Hal had to own that it looked a lot jollier than a stove. “And a good deal more appropriate,” added Bee. “Whoever heard of hunting buried treasure on a desert island and cooking meals on a real stove? That would be a—a—one of those things.”

“One of what things?” asked Jack, pausing to view his work.

“Why, one of those an—anach—”

“Anachronism, he means,” explained Hal. “He doesn’t know much English, Jack. You’ll have to excuse him. His education has been sadly neglected.”

“There’s something in that,” replied Bee. “When he put me in to room with Hal, the Principal told me I was next to the stupidest boy in school. Of course, I don’t know what he meant by that.” Bee added the latter part of his remark rather hurriedly, as Hal was poising a nice large stone in his hand and had his gaze fixed disapprovingly on the speaker. “Folks do say such funny things sometimes.” Whereupon Bee by the simple expedient of rolling over backward, got behind Jack and out of range.

“Now, we’ll have to hustle around and find some wood,” said Jack. “We can get some small stuff under the trees, I guess. Dead branches do pretty well. And there’s plenty of stuff on the beach, only it won’t be very dry probably. You fellows scurry around in the grove and I’ll go down to the beach.”

Afterwards they took the hatchet and cut sweet-fern, which Hal discovered quite a patch of at the back of the island, and sheep-laurel and spread it on the ground in the tent. On this they put their blankets, and, although now and then a sharp twig promised some discomfort, they decided that it would prove better than sleeping next to the ground. “And, anyway,” said Bee, who had never run across sweet-fern before, “it smells dandy; even better than sweet-grass.”

After arranging the provisions near the door of the tent there seemed nothing left to do save wait for supper. It was only a few minutes past five and even Hal had to acknowledge that it was still too early to start the fire. Jack suggested that they might collect more wood and save themselves trouble another day, but that idea didn’t seem to appeal to the others. Hal asked Bee why he didn’t do a little digging for the treasure and get up an appetite. He even offered to accompany Bee and look on. But Bee said there was no use digging until he had decided where to dig. So they concluded to take a walk over the island instead.

“Keep your eyes open, fellows,” advised Bee. “We might find the place where Old Verny had his cabin.”

But although they made a complete circuit of the island they discovered nothing more exciting or useful than a horseshoe crab which Bee marvelled at and treasured. From the northwest side of the hill they could follow the winding of Clam River for nearly two miles and Jack pointed out where, far up the little tidal stream, the old bridge used to stand. Far off, backed by a low wall of trees, ran the railway embankment. Farther southward Greenhaven was visible, the sun dyeing the white houses on the hill with rosy light as it sank into the west. Between the town and the island was a well-nigh untenanted expanse of marsh and meadow which, near the shore, merged into the gleaming sand dunes. One or two weather-beaten cabins dotted the area, but they were a good way off and served only to accentuate the loneliness that, with the approach of evening, seemed to envelop Nobody’s Island. Hal gave a little shiver as he turned away.

“Come on and let’s light the fire and have some supper,” he said. “This place will get on my nerves in a minute.”

“It does seem a long way off from everything, doesn’t it?” agreed Bee. “That sunset is wonderful, though.”

“I’d rather see a sirloin steak,” muttered Hal.

“Well, that’s just what you will see in about half an hour,” Bee responded cheerfully. “And I’ll bet Jack can cook one to the King’s taste, too!”

“Oh,” said Jack, “so I’m to do the cooking, am I?”

“Of course. You surely couldn’t expect Hal to do it, and the only thing I ever tried to cook was a fried egg; and I didn’t know enough to take the shell off first!”

They sought the tent and Jack set about getting a fire. “What are we going to have?” he asked.

“We’ve got ten pounds of steak and chops, a bag of potatoes, six loaves of bread, lots of butter, tea and coffee,” enumerated Bee. “And other things besides; bacon, flour, lard, sugar—er—oh, everything the heart of man could desire.”

“Well, we’ll have a slice of steak, then, and some boiled potatoes. I’ll boil enough so there’ll be some left for frying in the morning. How about coffee? Want that or tea?”

“Tea,” answered Hal.

“Coffee,” said Bee.

“Then I’ll have to cast the deciding vote. We’ll have tea. Coffee in the morning and tea the rest of the time. And—Great Scott!”

“What?” the others demanded in a breath.

Jack smiled. “Nothing,” he answered, applying a match to the little heap of twigs in the fire-place. “Somebody might find a skillet and a sauce-pan. A kettle, too, for the tea. Got one, Bee?”

“Surest thing you know.”

“Fine! Just fill it half-full of water for me, will you?”

“Water?” Bee, the tea-kettle in hand, gazed blankly at Jack.

“Of course! We can’t have tea without water, can we?”

Hal, solving the situation, let out a whoop of delight. At last Bee had been caught napping! Bee grinned in a rather sickly fashion.

“Is—is there a spring here, Jack?” he inquired.

“Not that I know of. Why? You brought water along, didn’t you?”

Bee shook his head. “I—I never thought of it.”

Hal kicked his heels with joy. “Get some water for him, Bee; don’t stand there like a dummy! Go on, get some water!”

“But—but Old Verny must have had water! Where’d he get it, Jack? There must be a spring or a well or—or—”

“He probably used bottled water,” said Hal. “I dare say the grocer brought it to him.”

“Well, I never heard of a spring on Nobody’s,” replied Jack, “and I never saw any signs of one. Perhaps Verny had a well.”

“He must have! I’ll look for it,” and Bee started off with the tea-kettle in hand.

“Don’t be an idiot!” cried Hal. “If there ever was a well it’s filled up long ago. You ought to have thought and brought water along. There’s nothing like looking ahead and being prepared, Bee!”

Bee tried to smile at that gibe, but made dismal work of it. “Then—then what can we do? We couldn’t use salt water, could we, Jack?”

“There’s just one thing we can do,” said Hal eagerly, “and that’s go home sensibly. We can’t stay here all night without any water to drink.”

“Go home!” exclaimed Bee blankly.

“Of course. Unless you want to row back to town and get a bucket of water.”

“Speaking of buckets,” said Jack as, the fire burning briskly, he arose to his feet, “have we got one?”

“Two,” said Bee. “They’re in there. Why?”

“Well, you watch this fire and keep it going and I’ll take the bucket and get the water.”

“I refuse to drink salt water!” exclaimed Hal.

“Who said anything about salt water?” laughed Jack. “I’m going to bring you some of the best water there is.”

“Wh—where are you going to get it?” demanded Hal and Bee in chorus.

“Out of the Crystal Spring,” answered Jack as he swung off down the hill to the wharf. “She’s half-full of it!”

“Gee, I never thought of that!” ejaculated Bee, subsiding on the ground with his tea-kettle still tightly clutched.

“It seems to me,” said Hal sternly, “that there’s a whole lot you never thought of.”

Bee had nothing to say. He only added more wood to the fire and in silence watched Jack jump into the dory and pull out to the sloop. For the rest of the evening he was chastened in spirit.

That supper tasted wonderfully good. Jack was a clever camp cook and the way that two-pound piece of steak was cooked and the way the potatoes almost fell to pieces at the touch of a fork showed it. Perhaps the tea was a little bitter; anyhow, condensed milk doesn’t seem to go with tea as well as with coffee; and Hal said uncomplimentary things about the butter, but no one could find fault with the rest of the repast. They sat on the ground between the front of the tent and the fire and ate to repletion. And afterward they heaped more fuel on the dying blaze and snuggled back contentedly while the afterglow dimmed and a half moon grew from frosty silver to mellow gold and threw a broad pathway across the quiet water. They talked for an hour or more, but the fresh air and the exertions of the day soon began to tell and long before nine Hal was snoring frankly, his head propped up on Bee’s shoulder and Bee and Jack were nodding. Finally the lanterns were found and Jack managed to fill them from the gallon oil-can, spilling a good share of the oil on the ground in the darkness, and then lighted them and hung them from the tent poles. Hal was somehow awakened and, yawning and stumbling, got his clothes off and tumbled between his blankets. Bee and Jack speedily followed and soon all was still on Nobody’s save for the lapping of the waves on the beach and the healthy snoring of the members of the Treasure Hunters’ Company, Limited.