Their captain and mentor hesitated.
“There are several strange points to consider by daylight,” he commented. “If we had found it by chance I should consider it genuine; but the light—and the ghostly voice—those make me suspicious.”
“But—look!” argued Nicky, “it gives a definite place, and tells about a landmark to show where to dig for treasure. Our map wasn’t even clear about the channel or where the treasure was hidden.”
“However,” Mr. Neale said, “it came to you in a logical way. The new one did not. I cannot account for that bluish light but it is surely not supernatural.”
“I’ve heard of very old things, decomposing, giving off light,” Cliff declared. Mr. Neale nodded and since there was really nothing to be gained by any long argument, they finally became calm enough to lie down again, Mr. Neale agreeing to stay awake and watch until dawn.
Not much sleep was possible; nevertheless they all dozed some, and their dreams were, to say the least, thrilling.
However, as is usual with any form of terror of supernatural things, the coming of the sunshine dispelled their timidity. True it was that the coral showed no footprints and the water told no story of the previous night’s incidents. They remained unexplainable.
Sam served a breakfast of fish, with bacon and some turtle eggs he had found the evening before, and during the meal their procedure was discussed.
Nicky, Cliff and Tom were for giving up their indefinite search, among a multitude of islets, and trying for the new treasure trove, and Sam agreed with them with the words, “Anywhere, sar—anywhere but hereabouts! It’s bad lucky, so it is!”
Mr. Neale, outvoted, gave in.