Days passed and weeks rolled by. The four friends and their colored companion still remained on the mysterious island. The flag still flew from the hill and all day long one or another of the boys kept a lookout from a spot near by. No boat came to rescue them, however, and the little party of castaways had almost come to believe that the rest of their days were to be spent on this little island somewhere in an unknown sea.

Once John on watch had seen smoke. Far off on the horizon appeared a smudge from the funnels of some passing steamer. It was too far away however to discover their signal or even to see their island. He had watched it hopefully until it finally disappeared over the rim of the ocean. That was the only sign of a vessel that had been sighted so far.

However, the boys were not in want. Their clothes were becoming ragged and their hair unkempt, but they were well fed and healthy. If it had not been for the fact that they knew they could not leave they might have been measurably contented. They were now living in the cave as snug and comfortable as could be desired. The fact that they were short of clothes did not bother them, either, for the weather was warm and clothes were more of a burden than a necessity.

As yet they had discovered no treasure. Hour after hour they had puzzled over the mysterious numbers on the parchment, but as yet no one had been able to solve their riddle.

“It makes me mad,” said John one day. “I sit and stare at those crazy figures until it seems as if I must go crazy myself. I never get even a clew as to what they mean, but at the same time the more I study them the more sure I am that they have a meaning.”

“And I, too,” agreed Grant. “I know they mean something. I’m sure of it.”

“Until we discover what it is we are practically helpless,” said John. “We can’t dig up the whole island looking for buried gold, you know. We must have directions.”

“I certainly would laugh,” exclaimed George, “if some one did find out what those figures mean and then we discovered that it didn’t apply to this island at all.”

“What would be so funny in that?” demanded Fred.

“Think how you’d all be fooled.”

“Yes, and you’d be just as badly off as any of us,” said Fred. “If we don’t find any money, you won’t get anything any more than we will.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like money,” said John. “He seems sort of hopeful that we won’t find any.”

“You’ve got to prove to me that you are going to find any first,” said George. “A set of funny looking numbers and a queer looking rock that Sam says he remembers hearing about and a cave with an empty chest in it doesn’t necessarily mean money, in my opinion.”

“Dey does in mine,” exclaimed Sam, rolling his eyes rapturously towards heaven. “Ef we only could find dat treasah Ah sho’ would show dem fresh coons back dar in Richmond a thing or two. Oh, Lawdy!” and Sam executed a few steps of a clog dance just to show his delight at the mere thought.

“What would you do if you had a lot of money, Sam?” asked Grant smilingly.

“Well,” began the enthusiastic darky, “de berry fust thing dat Ah would do would be to buy mahself de grandes’ lookin’ suit ob clothes yo’ ebber did see.”

“What kind of a suit?” inquired Grant.

“A checked suit,” said Sam. “A checked suit wif black an’ white checks as big as a postage stamp. Den Ah would get mahself some ob dem dare patent leather shoes. Den,” and Sam drew in his breath luxuriously, “Ah would purchase a bran’ span red necktie an’ square in de middle ob dat Ah would place de bigges’ an’ de grandes’ diamon’ ho’shoe yo’ ebber set yo’ eyes upon.”

“Is that all you’d buy?” laughed George.

Sam gave him a scornful look. “No, indeedy,” he maintained stoutly. “Nex’ Ah would buy one o’ dem high shiny hats and den a cane, den a pair of dem yaller gloves, an’ say, mebbe dem niggahs back home wouldn’ be jealous ob Samuel.”

“I guess they would, all right,” exclaimed Grant, much entertained by Sam’s description of the way he would spend his money. “Wouldn’t you buy anything but clothes, though?”

“Ob co’se Ah would,” said Sam. “Not at de fust, though. Ah’d jest get mah new clothes on an’ den walk down de street so’t ob cahless like an’ in two minutes yo’ gwine see ebbery wench in town jes’ a follerin’ me. Oh, say, golly, mebbe dem niggahs wouldn’t be jealous!” and Sam laughed aloud, the thought was so pleasant for him to contemplate.

“Well, I hope you get it, Sam,” said Fred heartily. “If you get it we all do.”

“Except Pop,” added Fred.

“Why not me?” demanded George in an aggrieved tone. “Why don’t I get any?”

“Because you don’t think there’s anything here worth taking,” said Fred. “You keep making fun of us all the time and telling us there is no treasure on the island. If you aren’t interested enough to do some work it seems only natural that you won’t want any of the treasure.”

“Why, you little shrimp,” exclaimed George, pretending to be very angry and glowering down upon his stubby companion, “don’t you know that I have been joshing you fellows all this time? If there’s anything here worth working for you can be dead sure I’m willing to do my share. All I say is that you prove it to me first.”

“Why should we prove it to you?” inquired Grant. “Why don’t you get to work and help us prove it to ourselves? After we have found where the stuff is any one can go and get it. What we want to know is the spot where it’s hidden.”

“Quite true,” George admitted. “At the same time you must admit that you are all taking a great deal for granted. You seem to think that there is no doubt about there being treasure on the island and also that this code when deciphered will tell you just where it is.”

“We hope that’s the case,” said Grant. “Of course we can’t tell until we’ve found out what the code says. That’s what we’re trying to do now.”

“You’re right,” agreed George. “We must get to work on it at once.”

“We’ve been at work on it ever since we struck this island,” said Fred warmly. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, when I get down to business we’ll soon solve the riddle,” said George pompously. “I’ll soon get an idea.”

“Hit him, Grant,” cried John. “You’re nearest to him and we ought not to let such things live.”

George burst out laughing. “Forget those old numbers for a while,” he advised. “So far no one has been able to do anything with them, but if we let them alone for a few days we can go back to them with our minds fresh. Who knows, somebody might get an idea all of a sudden that would solve the whole business.”

“I wish somebody would,” sighed Fred.

“Think of this, though,” exclaimed Grant. “Suppose we do forget it all for a few days, as Pop suggests. In the meantime a boat might come along and take us away and our chance of ever finding the treasure would be gone.”

“That’s right, Grant,” cried John. “We don’t want to lose an opportunity like this.”

“Can’t we take the code home with us?” said George. “We have all the rest of our lives to find out what it means and if it is worth while we can always come back.”

“How can we tell whether it is worth while or not until we see it?” asked Fred.

“Probably that code contains a description of what it is.”

“Perhaps it does,” said Grant. “We’ll know better when we find out just what it does say. I’m in favor of keeping right at it.”

“So am I, Grant,” exclaimed John. “Don’t let it rest for a second.”

“Dat’s de boy!” cried Sam heartily. “Ah get dat diamon’ ho’shoe yet.”

“Yes, and I hope you get a big automobile to go with it, Sam,” said Grant.

“Ah hopes so mahself,” grinned Sam. “Say, wouldn’t dat be gran’?”

“We’ll all have them,” said John. “We’ll have motor-boats and yachts, too, and maybe flying-machines.”

“Stick a pin in that fellow, Fred,” urged George. “He’s asleep.”

“Is that so?” exclaimed John. “At any rate, it’s cheap enough to dream.”

“That’s true,” laughed George. “Go ahead and dream if you like.”

“Some one of us ought to be able to read that code,” said Grant. “Why should a lot of figures get the better of us? We ought not to let them.”

“Maybe the numbers mean letters,” George suggested.

“We’ve all thought that ourselves,” said Grant grimly. “Just what letters, though?”

“Let me see the thing,” exclaimed George. “What number occurs oftenest?”

“I don’t know,” mused Grant, looking over his shoulder. “I guess five does.”

“All right then,” said George quickly; “now what is the commonest letter in the alphabet?”

“I thought of that, too,” said Grant. “The trouble is that none of us know.”

“That might be an idea, though.”

“Yes,” admitted John, “but if we don’t know those things I don’t see how we can get very far.”

“Nor I,” said George. “We might try some experiments, though.”

“Go ahead,” urged Grant. “Try everything you can think of. We’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain. No matter how silly an idea may seem to you, try it. That’s the only way we can ever get anywhere.”

“Right you are, Grant!” exclaimed Fred. “That’s the way to talk. If we stick to it, I know we’ll find out all about it some day.”

“Perhaps we will ‘some day,’” said George mournfully.