“Time to put up the lights, Captain?” inquired Juarez.
“Yes, Juarez,” replied Jim. “You may attend to it.”
“I don’t see what’s the use,” remarked Tom. “We won’t probably see a ship until we get near the coast of California.”
“Don’t make any difference,” replied Jim. “That’s the law of the sea and you can’t ever tell what you will run against.”
Juarez did not wait to hear the discussion, but went after the red and the green lanterns. He placed the red on the starboard side for’ard in a wooden bracket well up, and the green was placed on the port side, or the left, and they shone through the bronze dusk that obscured the rolling sea, like separate jewels, the emerald and the ruby.
It was a happy group that gathered around the supper table in the cabin that evening, for the boys were homeward bound. The windows of the skylight were wide open, because it was a typical tropical night—warm and balmy—and the great lamp that swung over the table with its brass reflector served to make it warmer still.
“Tell us something more about that lost mine you were telling about the other day, Jeems,” piped up Tom.
“Don’t tell Tom first,” warned Jim, “because if you do, he will have all the shares sold before we arrive.” There was a general laugh at this because Tom was strictly business when it came to money.
“Wait till we get on deck, then I’ll spout,” said Jeems.