He went boldly down to the rotting wreck, climbed eagerly up to the slanted cabin, and saluted the dead man, sitting there in chains. "Brother, I've come for the cannon," he said. "There's little else left for you to guard." Although the small bit of ordnance would make a load of fully fifty pounds, Grenville determined, then and there, to make a clean sweep of all the old hulk's remaining bits of brass and bronze not appropriated earlier. He, therefore, heaved the cannon out through a gap in the rotting planks, and began a hurried overhauling of everything left in the lockers. He had drawn out coil upon coil of ancient cordage, that broke like wetted paper in his hands, before the largest and last of the lockers had been emptied of its junk. This was a deep and comparatively sound sort of box beneath a former bunk. Its interior was absolutely dark. Unwilling to overlook the slightest metal object, Grenville got down on his hands and knees, to peer to the farthest corner. There seemed to be nothing remaining in the place. Nevertheless, he reached well inside and swept his hand about the walls, till it came to a slight obstruction. This was a screw-head, so far as he could determine, in the planking just to the left of the door, in one of the nearest corners. He pressed rather heavily against the moldy woodwork, and his fist went through, breaking away a decayed square of wood that had once been a tiny door. Convinced at once that a small and, heretofore, undiscovered locker, of insignificant dimensions, had been made between the walls of two of the usual compartments, he conceived it to be a secret hiding-place, and strained the full length of his reaching arm, blindly to explore its interior. He could not touch its wall at the rear without crawling fully inside the larger locker, and for this he felt but little relish. With a plan worth two of that discomfiting scheme, he arose and kicked out the paneling from the front of the narrow box. Once more he knelt, and thrust his arm to the end of the place. His fingers came gropingly upon a round, metallic object, wedged tightly down between two supports of wood. He broke it out in his vigorous way, and drew it to the light. CHAPTER XI A MYSTERY With an odd sensation tingling in his veins, Grenville examined his find. It was merely a cylinder, made of brass, fully three inches in diameter, and, perhaps, eight inches long. Its cap was rusted so firmly in place that he could not possibly remove it. He gave the tube a shake. There was something inside, but its weight was exceedingly light. Once more he knelt before the secret locker to examine all its walls. But although his fingers finally played upon every square inch of the sides and ceiling, there was nothing further to be found. Apparently the only "treasure" the place had concealed was contained within the tube.