After they had finished their bath the captain and Paul, carrying their towels in their hands, strolled up to Barry's house. He had just lit his lamp, and with a native sailor helping him was packing up his traps, for this was his last night on shore.
"Ah! putting your house in order, Barry?" said Rawlings blandly.
"Yes, just straightening up a bit, and getting my gear ready to take it on board," he replied.
"We must have a little bit of a celebration tonight, I think," resumed Rawlings, "and let the men have a final fling too. They have worked splendidly under your management; and our success is largely due to you."
Barry nodded. "Yes, they've worked very well indeed. And I think we might have a bit of a celebration, as you suggest. Let us say tomorrow night. I'm a bit too tired to-night, and at daylight I'll start off with Velo and shoot a couple of pigs for the men. They'll think a lot of that."
"Quite so! A first-rate idea, Mr. Barry. They can have the whole day and night to themselves." Then after a pause he began to discuss with his officer the probabilities of the future—the return of the Mahina and the establishment of a permanent pearling station on the lagoon.
Barry listened, now and then making a suggestion of his own, for which, as usual, Rawlings thanked him effusively.
"And you think, Mr. Barry, that this lagoon can be fished for many years?" he inquired.
"Certain. It would take us four or five years as we have been working, without touching the deep-water patches. The bottom of this lagoon is paved with shell. There are hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth of shell in it yet, let alone the pearls."
The Greek's greedy eyes lit up and his white teeth set. "Ah, ah, ah!" he said pantingly.