The edge of the sun touched the horizon and sank below it, out of sight. There were magnificent tints in the sky, and the gently rippling harbor water reflected them in innumerable swirlings of color. The _Esperance_ swayed very slightly and very gracefully on the low swells. In minutes two of the dungareed members of the ship's company got the anchor up with professional efficiency. One of them went below, and the _Esperance's_ engine began to rumble. Davis casually took the wheel, and the small yacht began to move toward the open sea while Nick played a salt-water hose on the anchor before lashing it fast. The brief twilight of the tropics transformed itself swiftly into night. Lights winked and glittered ashore and on the water. Terry felt more than a little absurd. The girl said pleasantly, at his side, "My name's Deirdre, in case you don't know." "Mine's Terry, but you do know." "Naturally!" she said briskly. "I should explain that I'm the ship's cook, and the boys forward aren't professional sailors, and my father isn't--" "Isn't in this business for money," said Terry. "It's strictly for something else. And I don't think it's buried treasure or anything like that." "Nothing so sensible," she agreed. "Now, if you want to join a watch, you'll do it. If you don't, you won't. The port cabin, the little one, is yours. You are our guest. If you want anything, ask for it. I'm going below to cook dinner." She left him. He surveyed the deck again, and presently went back to where Davis sat nonchalantly by the _Esperance's_ wheel. Davis nodded. "Now that you've, well, joined up," he said meditatively, "I've been trying to think how to, well, justify all the mystery. Part of it was Deirdre's idea. She thought it would make our proposition more interesting, so you'd be more likely to take it up. But when I think about explaining, I bog down immediately." Terry sat down. The _Esperance_ drove on. Her bow lifted and dipped and lifted and dipped. The water was no longer nearly smooth. There was the beginning of a land breeze. "There's _La Rubia_," said Davis uncomfortably. "You outfitted her with underwater ears and a radar, at least. Was there anything else?" "No," said Terry curtly. "Nothing else." "She catches the devil of a lot of fish," said Davis. He frowned. "Some of them you might call very queer fish. You haven't heard anything about that?" "No," said Terry. "Nothing." "I think, then," said Davis, "that I'd better not expose myself to scorn. I'd like to be able to read her skipper's mind, though. But it's possible he simply thinks he's lucky. And it's possible he's right." Terry waited. Davis puffed on his pipe. Then he said abruptly, "Anyhow you're a good man at making gadgets. We'll let it go at that, for the time being."