"And if we don't dig it up together," said Reginald, who had not the slightest compunction in playing on the fears and covetousness of the man, "why, I shall have to dig it up by myself--which you cannot prevent my doing if it is not on your property, you know. Then I shall take it all, except what I hand over to some lawyer, or English representative, in one of the islands for your sister's use." "But it is mine, mine alone!" the infuriated wretch would exclaim. "Mine, even if it is outside Coffin Island. Simon was my relative, and he found it." "And Nicholas Crafer was mine," replied the other, "and he found it, too. It belonged to him as much as to Simon, and, what's more, the secret belongs to me and not to you. And as you are a card player and a 'sportsman,' Mr. Alderly, you'll understand what a strong card that is in my favour." It was so strong a card that Alderly acknowledged to himself in his own phraseology that "he was beat." That is, he was "beat" by fair means, and, being a brute and a savage in whose nature there seemed to run all the worst strains of his ancestor, Simon, he soon took to turning over in his mind how he could win by means that were foul. And on how these means could be brought about he pondered deeply, roaming round the island as he did so, Barbara's gun under his arm with which to shoot, now and again, a gull or some other equally harmless or useless bird; or sitting on the crags, or the beach when the tide was out, thinking ever. And what he thought about more than anything else was, "How could he obtain possession of that paper which he had seen in Grafer's hand?" For in that paper lay the secret, he felt sure, of the spot to which the treasure, _his_ treasure, had been removed. It may be told here that, although he had been outside the jalousie on the night of the storm which drove him home, and his father to his doom, for longer than either Barbara or Reginald knew, he had gleaned but a very imperfect knowledge of what the latter had read out. Some words he had caught, such as "when you have taken your first measurement from the spot where you land, you stick in the ground your sword, and then make, or persevere until you make, all your other strides correspond with what I have wrote down." Yet this told nothing. He had not heard nor caught the mention of the Keys, therefore the measurement might apply to any of the scores of little islands in the Virgin Archipelago. Also he had heard Reginald read out from his papers, "now here is a little map, rough as befits a drawing made by me, yet just and true." But of what use was this map--unless he could set eyes on it! Ah! that was it. If he could set eyes on it!