BILLY’S vanity was well content with the compliments accorded him by his friends, who gave the appreciation that was justly his due for persistent effort when they had wearied. It was David whose enthusiasm led him to suggest an immediate trip on the lake, to learn whether or not they could identify the features of the topography shown by the chart.

The launch, to which they had been reduced by the loss of the Scherzo, had a speed of twelve miles an hour at its best and under Jake’s guidance it carried them swiftly enough northward to the broadest part of the lake, whence they might readily study the shore in all directions. Already, each had familiarized himself with the chart, so that it was held clearly in a mental picture, while he looked about over the sweep of sky-line critically, seeking some resemblance in the rise and fall of mountain and hill and in the curving of the shore to the irregular tracing made by Billy from the music. As the boat ran in a wide circle, first one and then another caught here or there some trick of configuration that sent him eagerly to compare it with the chart in Billy’s hands. But, in each instance, the hope was doomed to swift disappointment, for vital divergence was revealed between the two. There was some disagreement, too, as to whether or not the map had reference to the windings of the shore, or to the crests and valleys of the hills and mountains, as they showed in relief against the sky. Billy Walker was certain that the chart had been drawn to represent the sky-line, and Saxe was of the same opinion—chiefly, perhaps, because of the other’s reasoning in which he had come to have great confidence, if not absolute reliance. Billy argued that the sky-line would be the natural guide on which to depend, inasmuch as it was bolder, less open to doubts. The indication received from this, he pointed out, could be at once applied to the shore, since the first knowledge gleaned had declared that the treasure was at the bed of the lake. Both Roy and David, however, maintained that the chart should be taken as copying the indentations in a portion of the shore-line. David offered evidence in support of this contention to the effect that, whatever the sky-line might show as to itself, there could come from it no hint as to the distance from the shore at which the gold was lying. Billy admitted this, and then to his adversary’s chagrin, exposed the fact that the like difficulty must exist in the event of the map being of the shore-line itself—which was not to be gainsaid. It was Saxe, who, at last, made the discovery of importance. He had been staring fixedly at one point of the horizon for a full minute; then, he moved over to Billy’s side, where he alternately regarded the chart and the horizon for a considerable interval.

“Look here, Billy!” he exclaimed, abruptly. “Just take a squint at Mount Tabor, over there; I learned the name from Jake the other day.” He pointed to the west, a little to the north of them, where one of the highest of the peaks of the distant mountains loomed in naked majesty.

Billy obeyed the request, and readily distinguished the peak to which Saxe had called his attention.

“Well?” he questioned.“I want you to notice, too,” Saxe continued, “that the peak is flat on the top for some distance, and that there’s nothing of much height to the south.”

Billy nodded in assent.

“All right,” he agreed. “Go on.”

“Now, look farther north, about two miles, or perhaps more. You see another mountain, which seems to be almost the same height as Mount Tabor, and is flat on top in the same way?”

There was hardly any delay before Billy answered:

“Yes, I see it. Next?”

“Well, then,” Saxe continued, with animation, “you must bear in mind the fact that those two peaks are the highest on the whole extent of the western shore of the lake. It is, I imagine, very likely that anyone in search for a striking object in the landscape would select them at the outset as guides, on account of their conspicuousness. It’s my belief, after looking pretty closely, that Mount Tabor is shown by the two G’s above the staff in the beginning of the gold song. Try it running north from Mount Tabor, and compare it with the chart, and see if you don’t find it brings you all right to the second high mountain, which is marked by the two G’s of the second half of the music. And then, keep on, until you come to the mountain top, much lower, but also hog-backed, which seems to me to be indicated by the final C’s of the score.”

Billy needed no urging. Before his friend had ceased speaking, he had brought his whole mind to bear in considering the similarities to which Saxe called his attention. For five minutes, he examined first the undulant horizon line and then the chart, which he held out-spread before him. He and Saxe were in the stern seats, while Roy and David had places forward, discussing the shore-line, and giving no heed to what was going on behind them. Suddenly, the voice of Billy Walker boomed forth in its fullness:

“By Croesus, Saxe, you’ve got it! You’ve pinned the map to the mountains! Bravo, my son!”

At the outburst, Roy and David faced about, startled. They saw the unwieldy bulk of Billy swaying with the motion he had imparted to the launch by leaping to his feet. He was a figure of joy, with his little eyes glowing, his bare head a tangle of wind-tossed hair, his harsh features softened by radiance. Even Jake had turned in his seat at the wheel, and was rigidly expectant.

“Praise be!” Billy ejaculated, as he waved the chart high in a gesture of triumph. “One of you, at last, has come to my help. Saxe has run the chart to earth—literally.”

At that, there was a lively display of interest. Jake stopped the engine, and left the launch to drift lazily, while he joined the others for a study of the map in connection with the horizon line discovered by Saxe. Roy and David were inclined to be somewhat skeptical at the outset, but they were presently convinced, as they perceived the exactness of the correspondence between mountains and chart. There was jubilation on the part of all.

Jake introduced a topic that was lying in the mind of each.

“But I don’t understand yet jest where ’bouts that-thar money of Mr. Abernethey’s might be,” he remarked. “What about it?”

“Our esteemed friend has touched on the very crux of the matter,” Billy declared, with a noisy sigh. “We have now attained to all the knowledge that we require for our purposes—with a single small exception—we don’t know where the gold is. Nevertheless, the chart will tell us. It’s there—somewhere—Saxe has done nobly in coming to my assistance. It seems to me that, now, it’s the turn of either Roy or Dave.” Billy laughed, and then assumed an expression of elephantine demureness. “Roy is something of an expert in occult things,” he suggested, with his eyes twinkling. “It might be a good idea for him to try his powers on this. The divining rod, in the hands of the gifted, will locate precious metals, as well as water, under the surface of the earth. Doubtless, it will do as much for gold under water. It is probable that Jake can inform us as to where witch-hazel is to be found in the woods. With a twig of that for wand—I believe it is the accepted wood—let Roy go wandering over the lake in the launch; let him hold the divining-rod in his hand until it shall dip toward the water. Let a buoy be floated there to mark the spot, and there will we dredge, and there will we bring up the old man’s treasure.”

Roy sniffed, while Saxe and David smiled over Billy’s bombast. But Jake took the suggestion seriously, and nodded his approval.

“Allus hearn it would find gold and silver,” he said, “but I hain’t never seen it done. It’s fine for water, though, and that I know, havin’ seen it work many a time. It bent, and they dug, and the water come, and that’s all they was to it.”

Two hours after he had retired that night, Billy Walker was rudely awakened out of a sound sleep. In a dream, which had been of a curious, but most agreeable heaven, where he was dining on dishes that were puzzles, each one to be solved before it could be eaten, he was instantaneously transported to a vile groggery of the water-front in a seaport town, where a horde of rapscallions pounced on him with intent to shanghai. He awoke to behold in the moonlight Saxe, who sat on the edge of the bed, jolting him violently to and fro. When his brain was sufficiently clear, he demanded the meaning of this outrage. The first words from his friend were consolation enough.

“Billy, I’ve found the place!”There was no need for apology, since the disturber of his slumbers had brought to Billy Walker the news he most desired. Instantly, he was questioning.

“Quick! Tell me! How’d you find it! Where is it?”

Saxe laughed happily.

“I must give you one final lesson in music, to enable you to understand. It’s so simple! I can’t guess why I didn’t get it in a second.”

“The most obvious thing is often the most obscure,” came the oracular paradox.

“A hold in music,” Saxe explained, “is a mark which shows that a certain note is to be sounded for a time longer than is demanded by its value otherwise.”

“Well?” There was excitement in the harsh whisper.

“Wait until I’ve lighted the lamp,” Saxe said. In a moment it was done. “Now, take another glance at the gold song itself—not the chart.” He pulled the sheet from a pocket of the dressing-gown that he wore over his pajamas, and held it up before Billy’s face for inspection.