“I’ve heard something about that,” Jimmie said. “Go on and tell us more about it.”
The stranger smiled pleasantly, but there was a sudden quickening of the flame in his brilliant eyes which the boys did not notice.
“The upland portion of the Isthmus, the plateau, as it would be called in Mexico, is fairly level from Gatun to the Culebra hills. It might, in fact, be called a shallow basin, with hills shutting it in. Now do you see what the Gatun dam is for?”
“Sure. To flood that basin and turn the Chagres into a lake,” cried Jimmie.
“That is just what will be done. The Panama canal will be a lake most of the way. The locks will float the vessels up to the lake and down to the canal again. The hills, and forests, and farms of the basin will be under water.”
“And the mines,” Jimmie said, thinking of the talk he had had with Peter concerning the emerald mines. “The lake will flood them, too.”
“There are no mines there any more,” the stranger said, lightly, but there was a quality in his voice which almost asked a question instead of making a statement of fact.
“I’ve been wondering if there wasn’t mines down there,” Jimmie added, in a moment.
“What kind of mines?” asked the stranger.
Jimmie was about to say “Emerald mines,” but Peter’s anxious face warned him to check the words on his lips.