salt-laden spray was on our lips; the
songs of youth were in our hearts.

Every hour that I was not on duty, except those given to necessary
sleep, I spent in the company of Evelyn Wallace. Usually her aunt was
also present, and either Blythe or Yeager. That did not matter in the
least, so long as my golden-brown beauty was near, so long as I could
watch the dimples flash in her cheeks and the little nose crinkle to
sudden mirth, or could wait for the sweep of the long lashes that would
bring round to mine the lovely eyes, tender and merry and mocking by
turns.

Faith, I'll make a clean breast of it. I was already fathoms deep in
love, and my lady did not in the least particularly seem to favor me.
There were moments when hope was strong in me. I magnified a look, a
word, the eager life in her, to the significance my heart desired, but
reason told me that she gave the same friendly comradeship to Blythe and
Yeager.

It is possible that the absorption in this new interest dulled my
perception of external matters. So at least Sam hinted to me one night
after the ladies had retired. Mott was at the wheel, a game of solitaire
in the smoking room claimed Yeager. Blythe and I were tramping the deck
while we smoked.

"Notice anything peculiar about the men to-day and yesterday, Jack?" he
asked in a low voice.

We were for the moment leaning against the rail, our eyes on the
phosphorescent light that gleamed on the waves.

"No-o. Can't say that I have. Why?"

He smiled.

"Thought perhaps you hadn't. When man's engaged----"

"What!" I interrupted.

"---- engaged in teaching a pretty girl how to steer, he doesn't notice
little things he otherwise might."

"Such as----" I suggested.

He looked around to make sure we were alone.

"There's something in the wind. I don't know what it is."

"Something to do with the crew?"

"Yes. They know something about the reason why we're making this trip.
You haven't talked, of course?"

"No."

"Nor Miss Wallace? Perhaps her aunt----"

"It doesn't seem likely. Whom would she talk to?"

"Some of the men may have overheard a sentence or two. The point is that
they are talking treasure in the f'c'sle. Morgan got it from Higgins."

"From the cook?"

"Yes. Afterward the man was sorry he had spoken. He's the type that
can't keep a secret. Some of it is bound to leak out in his talk."

"Couldn't Morgan find out where Higgins learned what he knows?"

"No. I had him try. T