"Me and Jim Curtis and young Harry, we were together in the _Serpent Queen_--my name's Dibbs. That's where we got hold of the yarn about Lomo Island, though we didn't believe there was anything in it. But when this Dago died----" "Which Dago?" asked Bones. "The Dago that knew all about it," said Mr. Dibbs impatiently, "and we come to split up his kit in his mess-bag, I found this." He shook the oilskin case in Bones's face. "Well, the first thing I did, when I got to Sydney, was to desert, and I got a chap from Wellington to put up the money to hire a boat to take me to Lomo. We were wrecked on Lomo." "So you got there?" said Bones sympathetically. "Six weeks I was on Lomo. Ate nothing but crabs, drank nothing but rain-water. But the stuff was there all right, only"--he was very emphatic, was this simple old sea-dog--"it wasn't under the third tree, but the fourth tree. I got down to the first of the boxes, and it was as much as I could do to lift it out. I couldn't trust any of the Kanaka boys who were with me." "Naturally," said Bones. "An' I'll bet they didn't trust you, the naughty old Kanakas." "Look here," said Mr. Dibbs, and he pulled out of his pocket a handful of gold coins which bore busts of a foreign-looking lady and gentleman. "Spanish gold, that is," he said. "There was four thousand in the little box. I filled both my pockets, and took 'em back to Sydney when we were picked up. I didn't dare try in Australia. 'That gold will keep,' I says to myself. 'I'll get back to England and find a man who will put up the money for an expedition'--a gentleman, you understand?" "I quite understand," said Bones, all a-quiver with excitement. "And then I met Harry and Jim. They said they'd got somebody who would put the money up, an American fellow, Rockefeller. Have you ever heard of him?" "I've heard of him," said Bones; "he's got a paraffin mine." "It may be he has, it may be he hasn't," said Mr. Dibbs and rose. "Well, sir, I'm very much obliged to you for your kindness. If you'll direct me to Mr. Tibbetts's office----" It was a dramatic moment. "I am Mr. Tibbetts," said Bones simply. Blank incredulity was on the face of Mr. Dibbs. "You?" he said. "But I thought Mr. Tibbetts was an older gentleman?" "Dear old treasure-finder," said Bones, "be assured I am Mr. Tibbetts. This is my office, and this is my desk. People think I am older because----" He smiled a little sadly, then: "Sit down!" he thundered. "Let us go into this." He went into the matter, and the City clocks were booming one when he led his mariner friend into the street. He was late at the office the next morning, because he was young and healthy and required nine hours of the deepest slumber that Morpheus kept in stock. The grey-eyed girl was typing at a very respectable speed the notes Bones had given her the evening before. There was a telegram awaiting him, which he read with satisfaction. Then: