table
division of the spoils. Into my mind popped the consideration that we
were not the owners of it all but certain remote parties in Peru.

After having fought for it and won it the treasure was not ours. The
thing hit me like a blow in the face. I spoke my thought aloud. Sam
looked blankly at me.

Yeager laughed grimly. There was a good deal of the primitive man still
in the Arizonian.

"If they want it let them come and take it. I reckon finding is
keeping."

But I knew the matter could not be settled so easily as that. A moral
question had arisen and it had to be faced. Evelyn was called into
counsel.

She had an instant solution of the difficulty.

"We can't return it even if we want to. The town of Cerro Blanco and the
neighboring mines were destroyed by an earthquake in 1819. Not a soul at
the mines escaped and only a few peasants from the town. You will find
the whole story in Vanbrough's 'Great Earthquakes.'"

"Then, after all, we are the rightful owners."

"I'm afraid we are," she smiled.

Blythe, already as wealthy as he cared to be, declined to accept any
share of our spoils beyond the expenses of the cruise. Each of the
sailors received a good-sized lump sum, as did also Philips and Morgan.

Rather against the wishes of our captain the three former mutineers
shared with the rest of the crew. We did not of course forget the
relatives of the men who had fallen in our defense.

The boatswain Caine left a widow and two children. We put her upon a
pension until she married a grocer two years later.

We were never able to hear that she thought the loss of husband number
one anything but a good riddance.

Jimmie's share went into a fund, which is being managed by Yeager and me
as trustees. It is enough to keep him and his mother while the boy is
being educated and to leave a small nest-egg in addition.

Yeager, of course, put his profits into cattle. Since Evelyn and I moved
to Los Angeles we see a good deal of Tom and his wife. At least once
during the winter we run across to his Arizona ranch for a week or two.
His boy is just old enough to give his name proudly with a lisp as "Tham
Blythe Yeager."

Ours is a girl. She has the golden hair and the sparkling spirit of her
mother.

* * * * *

N. B.--The autocrat of the household has just read the last line as she
leans over my shoulder. She will give me no peace till I add that the
baby has the blue, Irish eye