Jibby Jones · Chapter 7 (2/2)

“I got a map of the whole business,” the Tough Customer said. “You didn’t know that, did you? It’s been right there in that split board back of the lantern ever since I come aboard this boat. And you would never have seen it if you hadn’t played fair and square with me, you bet! Gimme that board there to spread it out on.”

They heard the Rat move around and then the Tough Customer spoke again.

“When I was down there in Helena, like I told you,” he said, “they stuck me in jail for ten days for being a vagrant, and there was a fellow in my cell with me, see? A redheaded fellow with a scar over one eye. And he shines up to me about the second day, and says I’m the sort of man he’s looking for. He says he knows where pirate’s treasure is, and he’s getting up a gang to go and get it. Only, he’s in jail for three months for stealing a hog, you understand? And he needs somebody that’s going to be free soon, to make some preparations and one thing and another. So he shows me this map that he stole off an old nigger down there.”

“This map?” said the Rat.

“This map, which was drawed by the land pirate’s own brother to show where the treasure was,” said the Tough Customer. “So I said I’d go in with him, and he explained all he knew about the map, and the night before I was turned loose I stole the map off him, and I dropped it through the window. And the next day, when I was turned loose, I went around under the window and picked up the map and beat it for up here as fast as I could. Because this here word on the back of the map is the key word. ‘Riverbank,’ see? That’s the place to go to, to start out from, to find the treasure.”

“Well, you couldn’t be much nearer,” said the Rat.

“All right! And here’s the map itself,” said the Tough Customer. “You say you know places hereabouts; what do you make of it?”

“Let me get a good look at it,” said the Rat. “Why, pshaw! It looks plain enough! Here’s the river, because it is marked ‘river.’ And this bent business is a slough coming into the river. And this crooked line would be a creek emptying into the slough.”

“That’s how I’d make it out,” said the Tough Customer.

“Sure!” said the Rat. “And these lines mean two roads crossing each other, don’t they? And this is a house or barn in the lot at the crossroads. And here’s a cross-mark⁠—this X here. That ought to be where the treasure is buried, hey?”

“Well, now, would it be?” asked the Tough Customer. “How about this arrow? This arrow points right to where the road crosses the creek. Don’t that mean that that is where the treasure is? Suppose there is a bridge there, or a culvert. Mightn’t the money be hid there? Well, we could look both places. How about this ’23 miles’ and ‘Greenland’?”

“Greenland? Sure enough, that says Greenland!” said the Rat, all excited. “Why, pardner, this is the easiest thing you ever saw! I know where this Greenland is⁠—Greenland is a crossroads store up the river four or five miles from here, over on the Illinois side, just on top of the hills. Used to be quite a village, years ago, but it’s only a store and post-office now. Why, I can take you right there, pardner. And there’s a creek there, too, crosses the road. Only⁠—

“Greenland ain’t any 23 miles back from the slough, or from the river, either. It’s only⁠—say!”

The boys heard him slap his knee.

“Why, shucks!” he exclaimed. “That ain’t 23 miles. That’s meant for two⁠–⁠three miles. Two or three miles. And that’s about what this Greenland store is back from the river.”

He let his voice fall into a mysterious whisper.

“Why, pardner,” he whispered, “this is as easy as falling off a log! We can walk right to the spot. And that arrow don’t point to no treasure, either. That arrow is like any other arrow on a map⁠—it points north. It was put there to show where north is.”

“But that would make the Mississippi River flow from east to west,” objected the Tough Customer.

“And that’s why I say so!” declared the Rat. “Because it does flow right spang from east to west, all the way from Derlingport to Riverbank⁠—thirty good miles! If that map showed a river flowing from north to south, it would be wrong, because the Mississippi don’t flow that way at Greenland store. You bet! All we’ve got to do is to go right to the bank of the creek where that cross-mark is, and if that treasure is there, we’ll find her!”

“So you’ll put off cider-hunting awhile, I guess,” said the Tough Customer. “Gimme the map; I’ll put it back where I keep it.”

He shuffled around inside the boat, putting the map back.

“Well, now,” the Rat said, “as to putting off hunting that cider, it seems to me, seeing we’re right here on the island, we might take a day or two and⁠—”

What he would have said next nobody ever knew, for here came Orph Cadwallader and Wampus’s Uncle Oscar and Rover and I, and Orph had his gun and an axe, and Uncle Oscar had his pistol and an axe, and they were mad! They were mighty mad! Orph handed me his gun and up with his axe and chopped the shore line of the shanty-boat, and swung the axe and brought it down whang against the end of the boat. You should have seen the boards fly! In three blows Orph had the whole end of that shanty-boat knocked to splinters, and the Tough Customer and the Rat were out into the water, shouting and swearing and pulling the boat through the willows into the slough, to try to save some of it, anyway, and Orph stooped and picked up slabs of wet driftwood and slammed them at the two.

When the shanty-boat was out past the willow fringe, the Tough Customer swung aboard and grabbed his pole and began poling for dear life, shouting, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” and then Orph slung one last slab at them and missed by ten feet, and about all that was left of the excitement was Rover, trying to bark his head off.

“That’s the end of them!” Orph said. “That’ll be the last we ever see of those two.”

He took his gun and he and Uncle Oscar started down toward the end of the island to watch the shanty-boat float by, and we all started down there with them. But when Jibby had gone a few yards, he stopped short. Then he turned back and worked his way through the willows to where the shanty-boat had been. He picked up a broken board and bent over the water and fished something white out from among the splinters of houseboat.

“What is it?” I asked, and he opened it and showed me.

It was the map of the pirate’s treasure place.