  Watching Nicky’s contortions, Ma’am Sib began to see pictures in her mind of herself in jail and she became more afraid than she had made the boys. She knew that the open practice of voodoo was against all laws and she had not really meant to do any more than frighten the boys off. But Nicky’s actions caused her to dread the consequences to herself. But Tom and Cliff, understanding their comrade, had different thoughts. When Tom looked at Cliff he saw the latter calmly but determinedly scratching his left ear. Tom instantly folded his arms! Tom hastened to Nicky and grabbed his chum between two somersaults. “Cliff’s calling for a council,” he whispered. Nicky became at once a very sober and quietly normal young fellow. The three chums were the sole members of a secret order which they named from the fact that each of them had a mystery in his life; so their secret order was called “The Mystery Boys.” Nicky, to begin with, had in his family the supposed message from the former pirate, William Kidd. Tom’s mystery had to do with the fact that his sister had never been located after an attack on a Mexican mine by bandits; after which no trace of the girl, living there with her father, the mine superintendent, had ever been found. Cliff had solved his mystery the summer before; his father, studying Inca civilization, had been held prisoner by Incas of the old Peruvian race, in a city hidden among the Andes; a letter had reached Cliff, and he, with Tom and Nicky and a history instructor from Amadale, and with “Quipu Bill” whom they had met in Peru, had discovered and rescued the old scholar and had secured some Inca gold at the same time. The purpose of the secret order was to be able to exchange ideas in the presence of other people who were not members of the clique, without the outsiders knowing about it. The Mystery Boys had made up their order for the purpose of helping one another in every way, but in secret. Their motto was “Seeing All, I see nothing; Knowing All, I know nothing; Telling All, I tell nothing!” In order to have help in rescuing Cliff’s father, the order had added the young history instructor, a Mr. Whitley, and “Quipu Bill,” but after the thrilling adventures among the Incas, wherein the secret signals of the order had served the members in many “tight” places, Bill went off to a ranch in the West, and the instructor returned to his classes; both retained membership, but not actively. Cliff’s signal to Tom had been a call for a secret communication, and Tom, folding his arms in sign of agreement, quickly urged Nicky to silence. Cliff understood Nicky’s wild capering. Nicky, very sober, came up with Tom to rejoin the group. “I was just cutting up,” he said. “I was letting off steam because it struck me as funny that Ma’am Sib went to all that trouble to scare us away from a map or a cipher that had already been found and that wasn’t any use anyhow!” Mr. Neale accepted the explanation; it seemed a natural action that Nicky had indulged in, thus explained. Ma’am Sib was greatly upset and began to beg them not to pay any attention to her “spell.” Its effects were all removed, she declared. They agreed and as it was clear that young Sam was eager to have them cause no trouble for his grandmother, the boys and their older friend forgave the old voodoo woman and hurried away. Mr. Neale returned to his conference with some colored men who were excavating near the plantation house where the white people had their headquarters. Tom, Cliff and Nicky could hardly wait to get off by themselves. As soon as they succeeded, Nicky turned to his companions. “I saw you signal to me to say nothing,” Nicky told Cliff. “It was all I could do to hold in.” “I know it,” Cliff replied. “You ‘go off the handle’ easy, anyhow. I guessed what made you get so excited, and I didn’t want you to talk until we had had a meeting of our Order.” “Nicky’s ‘message’ from Captain Kidd has something to do with it,” Tom guessed. “Something?” Nicky said. “Everything! Why, that half of the cipher would fit in with a half that my uncle has!” “Honestly?” cried Tom. “Hooray! We’re off again for adventure!” “Not yet,” Cliff counseled. “There are some things to decide. First of all, half the cipher is in New York—or with Nicky’s uncle.” “Don’t worry about that,” Nicky laughed. “I got him to let me take a tracing of it. I held the paper against a lamp shade and traced over it. Here’s the ‘other half of the cipher!’ See what you make of it.” He dragged a leather billfold from his coat pocket and extracted a neatly folded paper. The others stared at it. “Was the original torn down on the side where this jagged line shows?” demanded Tom. “Yep!” responded Nicky, “and you see it’s on the side opposite to where Sam’s paper is ripped away. I think they’d just fit together!” “So do I,” Cliff agreed. “But even if you have this half, there are things to consider; but let’s see if we can remember the other piece and sketch it on this envelope,” he drew a letter from his pocket. “Here—here’s a pencil!” They got to work. On the sketch Nicky had already made there were several dots at one side, toward the top. Below them was the word “Dip” and under that were more of the little straggley blotches with a faint line starting at the left hand side and close to a small cross marked “Reck.” “That word ought to be ‘wreck’ I think,” Nicky suggested. They nodded. “And here, you see, is a nautical direction—but I don’t think it’s the same as on the other paper.” “It isn’t!” Cliff stated. “The other was some degrees North Latitude, but this is West Longitude. Now—what was the set of figures on the other map?” Nicky shook his head. “I recall—let’s see—was it thirty degrees and twelve minutes——” “You’re away off,” Tom broke in. “It was twenty-five degrees and twelve minutes and thirty seconds.” “No,” Cliff argued. “It was—no, it couldn’t have been twelve degrees North—that would be in South America, I think—anyway, if I recall my map, it wouldn’t be where the pirates used to go.” “I wish we could remember it,” Nicky said. “Then we could go and get the treasure.” “Maybe,” Cliff hesitated. “Maybe not. It would be like stealing to take any treasure by using the part of the map we don’t own.” “But Sam doesn’t own it by right!” Nicky urged. “It was sent to the Governor of Jamaica and stolen from him. Then Sam found it.” “But there must be part of the Governor’s family still alive,” Tom said, agreeing with Cliff’s attitude, “and if Captain Kidd sent the map in two parts so that both his friends would be sure to share in his treasure, we have no right to take the other fellow’s share!” “That’s so,” Nicky agreed. “Anyhow, Sam has no right to it either.” “But he has part of the map!” Tom reminded Nicky. “What ought we to do?” Nicky questioned. “I guess it’s a case for older heads to decide,” Tom suggested. “Cliff’s father——” “Yes, we can ask him,” Nicky agreed. “How about letting Mr. Neale know about it?” “I like him,” Cliff asserted. “He’s honest and he knows a whole lot about these islands. And he could help us a lot. My father could advise us but he wouldn’t want to go on any adventure; he had enough of that with the Incas.” “Then there is Nicky’s uncle, who has the real map,” Tom reminded his chums. “How about him?” “Let’s tell Cliff’s father first,” Nicky urged. “Then we can do as he says.” It was agreed that this was the best way out. They found the old scholar sorting some broken bits of pottery. These had been taken out of old mounds of refuse, centuries old, where the Carib Indians had thrown their cast off and broken utensils. Mr. Gray, by reason of his wide experience with such things, and with the help of the young archaeologist, had become proficient at the art of piecing the broken bits into their original places so that many valuable objects were rebuilt, or, at least, reassembled. After he had heard their story, Mr. Gray deliberated for a while and then he gave them his opinion. The boys admitted its soundness and decided to act upon it that very evening! |
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