ourselves?" Bascom pleaded. His whole little self-dependent life had strengthened his tendency to look out for himself. The more there were to work for the treasure the more there would be to share it.

"No," said the Captain. "Tek a pile of men to raise dose cannon."

"Then," put in Bascom, eagerly—"then le's ask Captain Lazaré an' Narcisse to help. Me an' Narcisse was here together when I found 'em."

The Captain knit his brows and looked up the bay. "I guess dat a good idea," he said. "Lazaré prett' sharp, but dey won't be much chance faw anyt'ing but straight wo'k. I see dey's a-raisin' sail on de Alphonsine."

"I'll row across an' speak to him when he passes," said Bascom.

But there was no need; Lazaré's schooner headed toward them from the first. As it came slowly about and anchored close to theirs Captain Tony gave Bascom a swift, inquiring glance, but Bascom shook his head. Then he shouted cheerfully,

"Ho there!"

"It strange dat yo' are jus' wheah we come," Lazaré said. "Did Bascom fin' it too?"

"Find what?" said Bascom, on his guard.

"At de bottom, w'en yo' was divin'," continued Lazaré, coolly. "Narcisse he fin' somesing, an' I t'ought me I bettah jus' to come an' see w'at to do 'boud it."

"Narcisse didn't find nothin'," Bascom exclaimed, hotly. "He didn't stay under a second. If he thinks he found anythin', what color was it, an' how did it feel? Was it dead? An' where did it come from?"

"I didn' want to drown myse'f like yo'," Narcisse answered. "I was faw gettin' home and tellin'."

"No you wa'n't," cried Bascom, fuming. "You know you wa'n't a-studyin' about nothin'. You didn't look like you'd ever seed anythin' in your life."

"De way is," said Lazaré, "dat de one was jus' as big a fool as de odder. Dey both come 'long pertendin', instead of talkin' it ovah like men an' agreein' to share it. Have yo' been down yet, Tony, to see w'at yo' t'ink?"

"Yes," said Tony; "I been down. Us'es was sayin', Bascom an' me, dat maybe yo'-all like to go in wid us raisin' dose cannon." Bascom pulled his sleeve, but he went right on. "Dere may be a little money in sellin' 'em faw a show, an' den Bascom he say he want one on de Mystery."

Bascom looked relieved, and Narcisse disgusted, but there was nothing to gather from Captain Lazaré's face.

"Dat was w'at I t'ought," he said. "Dere ain't nosing goin' on, an' anysing we can make is dat much ahead."

It was in this spirit that work was begun the next day. Not a word was said about the possibility of treasure, yet everyone knew that they were treasure-hunting. In these haunts of the old pirates children were brought up on legends of buried gold. But Bascom became perfectly absorbed in the guns. They could not be accounted for. No one in all the country remembered seeing or hearing of the wreck of a war-vessel in the bay. Nothing like that had happened during the war; the bay was too shallow for any modern ships. Its shoals were what had made it so attractive to the pirates, but the fate of all the pirate boats was known, and none had ever been lost there, nor had they ever sunk a victim inside the islands. Everything pointed to the old discoverers, the Spaniards and the Frenchmen. Bascom, who had taken small interest in the history of that or any other region, began to cram his mind eagerly with everything in the shape of legend or record or theory until the early days of the coast were at his fingers' ends.

The bay was thick with boats to watch the raising of the first gun. It had taken a long time to get the grappling-irons fastened. There was not a suit of diving armor to be had, and the men were obliged to go down again and again before they could pry the gun far enough out of its hard bed of shells to be grasped. When at last they felt it yielding to the windlass there was a big cheer, and then a breathless pause. The gun came on deck coated with shells and almost choked with barnacles and rust. Bascom flung himself atop of it and began to scrape. The others crowded over him. But there were no distinguishing marks. What he could disclose of the gun's surface showed it to be of some alloy similar to bronze. It was simply formed, and though not like any modern gun, neither Bascom with his new knowledge, nor anyone else who saw it, could find anything by which to guess its age. Of all the queer things that from time to time had made their appearance in Pontomoc Bay it was the most mysterious.

"You should sell it to some big museum," said a New Orleans man who had come aboard from his row-boat.

"They'll have to pay us'es our price before they gets it," Bascom said; "things don't come so cheap that have been laid by and saved so keerful for hundreds and hundreds of years."

"They are mo' of them down there," began Captain Lazaré, whose gray hair was wet and clinging to his hard old head from diving to superintend. "Le's not be a-wastin' time, boys."

"I would bring up everything there is in the way of wreckage," added the gentleman; "it may help to identify the guns."

But nothing that was ever said or found threw any light. The fragments of worm-eaten timber which they brought up seemed to have been rudely hewn, and riveted with wooden pegs for bolts. It was old, old, old—and there the story ended.

On the day that they were raising the sixth gun, the last they ever found, Bascom and Narcisse went down as usual. Bascom had been under longer, and was just about to rise when the hook under the lifted end of the cannon was repelled by something hard. He dug down, and his hand felt what was unmistakably the corner of a chest. Narcisse caught sight of the motion and put his hand in too, then he sprang up, pushing Bascom down with his foot while he rose.

"I foun' a chest!" he gasped, coming up. "I foun' the treasure!"

"Wheah? How big?" cried Lazaré, and they crowded round the boy. But some one noticed the blank water and raised another cry,

"Where's Bascom?"

Captain Tony drew one deep breath, thrust his hands above his head, and sprang into the water. Narcisse stood still a moment, big eyes big with horror, then he followed overboard.

THE CAPTAIN REAPPEARED AND LIFTED BASCOM'S HEAD ABOVE WATER.

It seemed a breathless age before the Captain reappeared and lifted Bascom's limp head above water. A dozen hands pulled them on deck and fell to work on Bascom.

"He'll come out," prayed the Captain through his teeth; "he got to come out. My boy—Bascom—"

Narcisse climbed up the schooner's side, but no one noticed him, and he hung in torture outside the group surrounding Bascom.

"He'd run his arm under de end of de cannon and de grapplin'-hook," Captain Tony was saying, "an' dey had settle back onto him, an' he had not the strength lef' to pull out. I doan' understan' how it could have settle on him like dat; but he will come out. He got to come out."

Narcisse, hearing all this, sneaked away into the cabin. He had had no wish to hurt Bascom even when he pushed him down; it was just the temptation to be ahead for once.

At last there was a step down the ladder. Captain Tony came and sank onto the bench opposite. He did not see Narcisse; he was talking to himself, and his voice trembled. "My little pa'dnah," he said; "he was so wil' 'boud dat treasure—an' proud 'boud dem ole cannon. T'ink of dat little chap weatherin' de big sto'm wid me. He was the stuff—"

Narcisse reached over and clutched timidly at the Captain's leg. "Ain't dere—no chance—lef'?" he begged.

Tony started, and gazed at the boy and tried to speak, but his voice broke into a sob. He reached over and patted Narcisse. "He—he comin' out," he said. "He be