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It had a treasure. It was neither gold, nor silver, nor gems, but a secret kept in the captain’s cabin. Anyone who dared look was——” He moved a forefinger across his throat.
    â€œLife was cheap then,” William said.
    â€œSay, do you suppose the mask has something to do with that treasure?” Frank asked.
    The old man shrugged. “Perhaps.”
    â€œI’ll bet the galleon the treasure hunters were looking for was the
Africanus Rex!
” Biff declared.
    Frank turned to William. “Do you or your grandfather know anybody in town who can read Arabic?”
    â€œOh, yes,” William replied. “Ali El Ansari does.”
    â€œWho’s he?”
    The boys were told that Ali El Ansari was a merchant, originally from Cairo. He ran a curio shop that contained a large collection of African objects.
    â€œI visit him often,” William said. “He might be able to help us.”
    The grandfather excused himself and said good-by. He went home while the boys hastened to town.
    Ali El Ansari’s shop, they found, was only several doors down from the restaurant where Phil had spoken gibberish to gain entrance.
    â€œBehave yourself now and speak nicely,” Frank said, nudging his friend.
    â€œOkay, Dad,” Phil quipped.
    The store interior was postage-stamp size. A single counter faced the door, and glass cases extended from floor to ceiling on either side. When William tapped a hand bell on the counter, footsteps sounded from inside, and a slender man in his thirties appeared. He had high cheek bones, black curly hair, and a tan complexion, which, with his neat dark business suit, gave him a somber appearance.
    When he saw William, he greeted him with a subdued smile. “Good afternoon, my friend. What can I do for you today?”
    â€œI have something to show you, sir,” William said, pulling the mask out of the brown bag. The man leaned on the counter on his elbows andheld the metal object, turning it from one side to the other. Then he looked up.
    â€œThis is a rare find. Where did you get it?”
    â€œOn the beach,” Joe said.
    â€œIt is very old and valuable,” El Ansari said.
    â€œIs it a death mask?” Phil asked.
    â€œI believe so.”
    â€œWhat we would like to know about,” Frank said, “is the writing on the inside. Is it Arabic?”
    â€œIndeed, yes. Let me get my magnifier.” The man went into the back and returned with a thick lens, which he put to his eye.
    After studying the inscription for a while, he translated, “‘He who does not travel will not know the value of men.’ That is a Moorish proverb. The person who owned this probably was educated and well-traveled.”
    Then Ali El Ansari said, “There is more here. It is visible only under my glass.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Frank asked eagerly.
    â€œA compass. This is curious.”
    The man concentrated on the new discovery. Finally he said, “At the South point of the compass is the word ‘gold,’ at the North, the word ‘salt.’ And beneath the compass it says, ‘Mysterious Caravan!’”

CHAPTER V
An Ominous Telegram
    J OE Hardy let out a low whistle. “Mysterious caravan! What could that possibly mean?”
    â€œIt means you’re into another mystery. What else?” Chet said. “Anything unusual about that?”
    The others laughed while Frank jotted down the words on a piece of paper, and put it in his wallet.
    The Arab said, “Would you consider selling this piece?”
    â€œYou know we can’t,” Frank said. “It belongs to the government of Jamaica.”
    The man stroked his chin thoughtfully and replied, “Not necessarily. Who is to say it came from the sea? Perhaps somebody lost it in the sand years ago.”
    â€œYou should have seen the moss and barnacles we scraped off it,” William said. “It came from that old wreck all