Grace and Kojo measured the distance between the two rock pillars.
Jake found a rocky ledge, sat down, and jotted their findings in the small notebook he’d stuffed into his back pocket before leaving home. He’d remembered to bring a pencil, of course, and a plastic pig-shaped pencil sharpener. (He’d borrowed it from Emma.)
“There are more word stones in this second rock pillar,” reported Grace.
“What do they say?” Jake called across the cavernous chamber.
“The same thing. ‘You can always find another way.’ ”
“So that’s the only measurement we can take,” said Kojo. “From rock pillar A to rock pillar B. The rest is up to you, Jake.”
“And Eduardo Leones,” added Jake. He had written the full text of the cabin boy’s clue on the inside of the notebook’s front cover.
Jake went to work.
It took ten minutes for him to re-create the solution he’d figured out with Mr. Keeney, this time factoring in the actual spacing between the two rock pillars which had been missing until now.
By one a.m., he was ready to transfer the data from his pencil sketch map to the actual cave floor. He started pacing through the sea of chunky gravel.
“Let me know when to start recording video again,” said Kojo.
Jake didn’t answer. He was laser-focused on the map, which he could see without even looking down at his notebook. It was as if his eyes had a fighter pilot’s head-up guidance system projected in front of them. He could see the grid, the intersecting lines and triangles, glowing green on the floor.
He could see the X from the geometry puzzle.
He stopped on the spot.
“Grab your shovels, guys. This is where we dig.”
Jake swung the pickax to break up the gravel, which had cemented itself together with caked dust.
“Roll camera!” shouted Grace.
Kojo set his phone on a rocky outcropping on the nearest cave wall and started recording.
“Welcome to our glorious treasure recovery, folks!” he said to the camera. “Stay tuned for pirate booty, baby.”
Grace and Kojo grabbed shovels and moved load after load of crushed stone up and out of the way. They sank their blades into the sea of stone—loosened by swings of Jake’s pick—and heaved it backward in a pitter-pattering shower of gravel. It took time, but soon, working together, they dug a four-feet-wide, two-feet-deep hole in the floor.
“How much deeper?” asked Kojo, swiping sweat off his brow.
“Eduardo didn’t tell us,” said Jake, busting up another chunk of stone with the sharp metal tip of his tool.
He heard a tink.
Metal hitting metal.
He looked at Grace, who looked at Kojo, who looked back at Jake.
In a flash, the three friends fell to their knees. They scooped up pebbles with their bare hands and tossed them up over the edge of the hole.
“It’s a metal trunk!” shouted Kojo when its dusty top revealed itself. “A treasure chest!”
They scraped away more stones until the entire top was uncovered.
There was a rusty hasp—a slotted hinged metal plate—fitted over a loop for a lock, but there was no lock.
“Pry it up,” said Jake. “We can use the hasp as a lever to open this lid.”
Grace used the pointed edge of her shovel to pop up the hasp.
The three friends scrambled out of the shallow pit so they weren’t standing on top of the treasure chest’s lid.
“You do it, Grace,” said Jake. “After all, the cabin boy is your ancestor. This treasure belongs to you and your family.”
“Minus ten percent,” added Kojo.
Grace reached down. Grabbed hold of the hasp. “This is for you, Great-to-the-eighth-power Uncle Eduardo. You too, Uncle Charley. Hang on. We’re coming!”
She pulled with all her might.
The lid squealed open.
“Wow!” the three friends gasped.
The giant metal box was overflowing with glittery, twinkling treasure. Stacks of shimmering gold coins. Mountains of sparkling jewels. A silver candelabra, an emerald necklace, and even a diamond-encrusted crown.
And that was just the top layer of treasure in the very deep chest.
“We did it, baby!” Kojo shouted to where he knew his phone camera was watching. “We just dug up Dog Breath’s booty!”
Grace joined him, tossing two handfuls of gold coins up into the air. “We sure did!”
Jake added a “Woo-hoo!” to the camera, showing it the emerald necklace he’d plucked out of the treasure chest.
The three laughed so hard they had tears in their eyes.
They sank to the floor, scooping up loot and plopping it by the handfuls into their laps.
“Uncle Charley can retire,” said Grace. “He can buy his own private island!”
“I’m going to buy a new chemistry set,” said Kojo.
“I’m going to pay for Mr. Farooqi to get his PhD!”
“This treasure has to be worth millions!” exclaimed Grace. “We can definitely help fix up the school.”
“Heck,” said Kojo. “You can fix up two schools. Maybe three. You could build a brand-new school on top of the old school.”
Behind them, Jake heard beads clacking.
“No, children,” said a very familiar voice. “That is not going to happen.”
Mrs. Malvolio had just crawled into the chamber.
Mr. Huxley and the notorious treasure hunter Eriq LeVisqueux came crawling out right behind her.
LeVisqueux was brandishing a sword.
He was, as the FBI had predicted, armed and dangerous.