Johnnie produced from his pocket a handful of coins.
Branch's eyes bulged, he touched a gold piece respectfully, weighed it carefully, then pressed it to his lips. He rubbed it against his cheeks and in his hair; he placed it between his teeth and bit it.
"It's REAL!" he cried. "Now let me look at the jewels."
"Rosa has them. She's wearing them on her back. Hunched backs are lucky, you know; hers is worth a fortune."
"Why, this beats the Arabian Nights!" Norine gasped.
"It beats--" Branch paused, then wagged his head warningly at the girl. "I don't believe a word of it and you mustn't. Johnnie read this story on his yachting-trip. It couldn't happen. In the first place there isn't any more money in the world; mints have quit coining it. Why, if I wrote such a yarn--"
"It IS almost unbelievable," Johnnie acknowledged. "I found Aladdin's cave, but"--his face paled and he stirred uneasily--"it was nearly the death of all of us. I'll have to tell you the whole story now; I've only told you the half."
While his hearers listened, petrified with amazement and doubting their ears, he recited the incidents of that unforgettable night on La Cumbre: how Cobo came, and of the trap he sprung; how Jacket stole upon the assassin while he knelt, and of the blow he struck.
When Johnnie had finished there was a long moment of silence. Then Norine quavered, tremulously: "That boy! That blessed boy!"
Branch murmured, feebly: "Dash water in my face, or you'll lose me. I--You--" He found no words to express his feelings and finally voiced his favorite expletive.
"It's all too weirdly improbable," O'Reilly smiled, "but ask Rosa or Jacket--the boy is bursting to tell some one. He nearly died because he couldn't brag about it to Captain Morin, and there won't be any holding him now. I'm afraid he'll tip off the news about that treasure in spite of all my warnings. Those jewels are a temptation; I won't rest easy until they're safely locked up in some good vault. Now then, I've told you everything, but I'm dying for news. Tell me about yourselves, about Esteban. I expected to find him well. What ails him?"
"Oh, Johnnie!" Norine began. "He's very ill. He isn't getting well." Something in her tone caused O'Reilly to glance at her sharply. Branch nodded and winked significantly, and the girl confessed with a blush: "Yes! You told me I'd surrender to some poor, broken fellow. I'm very happy and--I'm very sad."
"Hunh! He's far from poor and broken," Leslie corrected; "with a half-interest in a humpful of diamonds and a gold-plated well, according to Baron Munchausen, here. This is the Cuban leap-year, Johnnie; Norine proposed to him and he was too far gone to refuse. You came just in time to interrupt a drum-head marriage."