“Well, boys, the robbers haven’t got her yet!” cried Uncle Naboth, delightedly. “No; but they’ve had a try for it already,” said the Major, significantly, as he pointed to a half-finished raft that had been lifted high by the waves of the previous night and wedged fast between two great trees. “Evidently the scoundrels don’t know we have sent a squad to guard the ship.” “We’re on their trail, all right,” remarked Ned Britton, after examining the crudely constructed raft carefully. “But where do you suppose they are?” “Somewhere on the coast, of course,” said Uncle Naboth. “Let’s walk up the edge of the bay to the inlet, and see if they’re in that direction.” So they made for the inlet, failing, of course, to find any traces of the thieves. They were seen from the deck of the “Flipper” by the men who had been sent aboard in the long boat, and the Major signaled them to remain where they were for the present. After a brief halt the little band retraced their steps to examine the coast in the other direction, and another night overtook them within hailing distance of the rocky peak where I and my two blacks were resting beside our newly acquired bridge to await impatiently the morning. But the Major’s party was, of course, unaware of this, and went into camp in a hollow where the light of their fire was unobserved by us. At daybreak, however, Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton were up and anxiously exploring the coast; and presently they saw, a little distance away, the tall form of Bryonia walking carefully across our tree trunk. The black almost fell into the arms of Uncle Naboth, as he stepped off the tree and the old man’s first anxious question was: “Where’s Sam?” “Here I am, Uncle!” I called from my rock. “I’ll be with you in a minute, but we’ve got to get the gold over first.” “The gold!” cried Uncle Naboth, in amazement. “Have you got it, then, after all?” “To be sure,” said I, with a touch of pride, “every grain of it!” Uncle Naboth groaned. “I didn’t think as you’d do it, Sam, my boy,” he said regretfully. “I couldn’t have done it, without Nux and Bry,” I answered, not understanding that I had been accused of the theft. The old man turned reproachfully to Bry, who stood grinning beside him. “Did I ever teach you to steal, sir?” he demanded, sternly. “Takin’ gold from robbers ain’t stealin’,” replied the black, in a calm tone. “What robbers?” “Daggett, an’ Pete, an’——” “Oh, I see!” exclaimed Uncle Naboth, a light breaking in upon his confused mind. “They stole the gold from the camp, I suppose, and you and Sam have followed them up, and got it back again?” “That’s it, exactly, Uncle!” I declared from my side of the precipice, where I could hear every word spoken. “I’ll tell you the whole story bye and bye.”