PART TWENTY-FIVE: The Treasure, At Last?

"This is your final chance, Brow," said Pruneface, leveling his Colt .45 pistol at the latter's horrified eyes. "If you can't produce the treasure map by the time I count to three..."

"I told you, I don't have it anymore!" the Brow fairly screamed, still holding his hands up in the air. "Go back to the ship and look for it – it may be there. I'll stay here–"

"One..."

"Pruneface, no! I swear, I don't know where it is! You can search me, if you like."

"We'll search your body afterward. Two..."

All the other villains surrounding the Brow aimed their weapons like a firing squad (except for Oodles, who had his fat fingers stuffed into his ears and his eyes squeezed shut behind his bangs).

The Brow clenched his teeth tightly as he closed his own eyes.

"Thr–"

"Hey, Brow!" a familiar voice shouted from the direction of the jungle. "You look kinda pale. What's the matter – didja lose somethin'?"

Now, make no mistake – there was no one who wanted to see the Brow get shot down like a dog more than Stooge Viller. But something motivated him to speak out at that crucial moment, though it definitely wasn't pity. It was pride. Stooge simply could not bear the thought of the Brow getting killed without ever learning the truth of how he had been bested, and by whom. "Is this what you were lookin' for?" he asked innocently, holding aloft the treasure map like a trump card and smirking from ear to ear. Mumbles stood beside him, carrying his flotsam banjo.

"Viller, thank God," the Brow breathed, momentarily forgetting that he was an atheist. Seconds later, however, he reverted to form. Gesturing wildly, he yelled to the others, "He's the one you ought to shoot, not me! Look, he's got the map! He stole it from me!"

"How could he have stolen it?" B-B Eyes wanted to know. "I saw you take it from him last night with my own eyes, see? And then we double-sapped him, and he didn't wake up until after we marooned them on that sandbar."

Stooge chuckled dryly, basking in his moment of glory. "I told you guys once that I could pick a pocket in my sleep. Now do you believe me?"

"You ... you big faker!" sputtered the Brow, turning crimson with mortified rage. "You were only pretending to be knocked out, weren't you?"

"And you were ze one fooled by 'is act," Sketch Paree pointed out scornfully. "I wanted to simply shoot zem both dead and toss zere bodies overboard, but oh non, you 'ad to go and maroon zem."

"If you knew he was shamming, then why didn't you say so, Paree?"

"I did not know it at ze time – but I was not ze one carrying 'im over my shoulder, m'sieur Brow."

"Why, you sanctimonious snake, I outta–"

"ENOUGH!" roared Pruneface, startling everyone into silence. "All this pointless bickering and squabbling isn't finding us the treasure. I suggest a truce is in order. Let's all give each other clean slates, letting bygones be bygones, so we can concentrate on locating Captain Cannonsmoke's treasure, once and for all."

Though ignorant of what was going through each other's minds, both Stooge and the Brow couldn't help thinking Hypocrite! at Pruneface's words. "Does that mean you guys will stop tryin' to do in Mumbles an' me?" Stooge demanded.

"Yes," answered Pruneface, glancing about at everyone else to make certain they understood. They did, although Sketch Paree still cast some very venomous looks at Mumbles, which the latter returned in spades. The blond hood was secretly pleased to see that Sketch had a bandage on his bitten hand.

"It's a deal, then." Stooge nodded as he and Mumbles came forward to rejoin the group.

"Give me back the map, Viller." insisted the Brow. "I'm still today's Captain, after all."

This drew a sneer from Stooge. "Captain, shmaptain! Dry up, Brow – we aren't on the ship anymore. I'm holdin' on to it until we find the treasure, you got that?"

Something began to twitch on the Brow's misshapen forehead as his hands once more balled into fists...

"I said that's enough!" Pruneface reminded them. "Now shake hands, you two, and let's get on with the treasure hunt."

"I'm not shaking hands with him!" both Stooge and the Brow exclaimed in unison.

"At least that's one thing those two can agree on," Flattop snickered to B-B Eyes.

Pruneface pulled the hammer back on his .45. "Shake hands, right now – or I'll blow both of your stubborn heads off, one after the other."

They shook hands. The Brow's palm was clammy with sweat, but Stooge was grateful that at least his own fingers weren't broken in that potentially mangle-like grip.

"That's better," said Pruneface with a ghastly grin of approval. "And now, gentlemen – pick up your shovels. The treasure awaits us!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Following the directions and the landmarks given on the map, the group of gangsters eventually found themselves in a large clearing surrounded by jungle on all sides. "Where do we go from here, Stooge?" asked Itchy, who was alternately scratching himself and swatting at insects.

Consulting the map, Stooge shrugged. "Nowhere – this is the spot marked with a red X. See – there's that tall mound at one end that's indicated here on the map. The X fills the entire clearing, but I didn't expect the clearing to be this big. I guess digging in the middle of it would be a good idea."

At these words, the Mole stepped forward. "Stand back," he announced, rolling up his sleeves. "This is my specialty!" When he reached the very center of the clearing, he hauled off and attacked the ground with his bare hands, sending dirt flying behind him in a brown fountain. The others watched him for a few seconds, but then, as if they had all gotten the same thought at the same time, each began digging their own holes with their respective shovels. After all, the treasure might not have been buried in the exact center of the clearing, and anyway, (they thought) why should the Mole be the first one to see it?

The sun was hot and the shovels were heavy, especially when they were full of dirt. One after another, the criminals took off their jackets and shirts and continued their labors bare-chested. It was exhausting, thirsty work, and none of them had been foresightful enough to bring any containers of water from the ship. But nobody was willing to go back for some, what with the treasure possibly so close now...

Then the Mole – whose excavation was deeper than anybody else's – suddenly shouted out, "I've found something!"

The mystery (or at least a good portion of it) will be revealed in the next installment!