“Sellers, when I was leaving the Juan, said, ‘Whar’s your light?’
“‘Run short of oil,’ says I. ‘Kin you let me have some?’ He thought I was tryin’ to wangle oil out of him, and he closed; said he was run short himself.”
“What was your meaning in not putting out a light?” asked Jude.
“Maybe you’ll find out,” said Satan, “if you keep your eyes skinned and stop askin’ questions. Well, that’s where we are. They’ll have the barrel of gunpowder fixed by tomorrow to blow the deck off her, and as soon as they put a light to it we’ll know. It’s blastin’ powder and ought to split the deck to flinders if they fix it proper. I don’t b’lieve it’s coral coverin’ that deck, I b’lieve it’s old petrifacted guano, if you ask me; anyhow, it’s hard enough.”
“By Jove!” said Ratcliffe. “If that’s so, it bears out my theory. I came to the conclusion that the old hooker had never been under water according to that yarn Lopez slung; yet I couldn’t account for the coral deposits. I believe you’re right. I believe the real wreck is lying at that place you said that’s given in the latitude and longitude. Well, see here, why not get the anchor up and light out right now for the other place. They wouldn’t follow.”
“Wouldn’t they?” said Satan. “The Natchez would be after us like a cat pouncin’. No, I’d rather stick, if it’s all the same to you, and see the fireworks. After that leave ’em to me. There aren’t many’s got the better of me when my dander’s up. Now then, Jude, if you’ve done stuffin’ yourself, maybe you’ll lend a hand on deck. There’s swabbin’ to be done.”
CHAPTER XXIV
A BOTTLE OF RUM
Ratcliffe helped in the swabbing and polishing. No housekeeper ever exercised more meticulous care in this respect than Satan. He was a fanatic where cleanliness was concerned, and polish,—witness the brasswork of the wheel, the binnacle and skylight,—even paint and varnish were minor gods compared with Brasso!