A problem had then faced the lads which was not solved till Stonington Hunt was taken into the secret. He possessed some influence at the hospital and on his word that Hank Handcraft was a reputable man named James Smiley, the former beach-comber had been admitted there. Stonington Hunt was not influenced by philanthropy in this matter. His main desire was to see Hank get well speedily so that he could guide them to the location of the money on the wrecked Vesper.
On this spring afternoon Jack and Bill had visited the hospital and were readily admitted to the sickroom.
“But I must warn you, gentlemen, that James Smiley is a very sick man, and you must not bother him or excite him,” the house surgeon had said, as they left the office in charge of a nurse.
“Has he been delirious lately, Miss Jones?”
“No, sir, not since daybreak,” was the reply; “but last night, so the night nurse told me, he raved and talked for hour after hour about some money hidden on a ship.”
“Strange, isn’t it, what delusions a sick man will get?” mused the surgeon.
The boys were shocked, in spite of their hard, callous natures, at the change for the worse in Hank’s appearance since they had seen him a week before.
“Come, Hank, you must brace up,” said Jack, as the nurse left the room and they were alone. “It will soon be time to take a trip to the Vesper for that coin.”
“I shall never go,” rejoined Hank gloomily; “but I have drawn a rough map here to show you where I hid the money in a crack behind some beams in the forecastle. You must get it, and I must trust to you to divide it fairly with me.”
“Where’s the map?” asked Jack, a greedy light coming into his hard eyes.
Hank stretched an emaciated arm forth and drew from under his mattress a crumpled bit of paper.
“It’s the third beam from the foot of the companionway steps,” he said. “You can’t miss it with this map to guide you. See, it is all set down here.”
He indicated some lines and marks on the paper, which Jack promptly took and pocketed. After some more conversation, they left the sick man and set out for their trip back to Hampton.
“Poor Hank, I think he was right. He has not long to live, I’m afraid,” said Bill Bender, as they were strolling down the road leading to the station.