“Goodness knows! But wait a minute. The old sailor doesn’t appear to have known, or remembered, that there was anything of value on the _Hatteras_, but as soon as Dave told his father about it Captain Hallard remembered the story, though he didn’t think there would be anything of value left on the wreck after all this time. Whether that is so or not, however, nobody can say, really, as nothing has ever been heard of any one finding the platinum.” “But didn’t the sailor give Dave any idea where he saw the wreck?” Captain Grummitt asked. “Somewhere near Christmas Island,” Dave put in. “Now we’re getting on,” said the skipper. “How near?” “Some distance away, I guess,” replied Dave. “They were running toward Christmas Island from another place when they came across it.” “Did he mention the name of the other place?” “Yes, but I don’t remember what it was now.” “Well, let’s see,” observed the skipper, diving into a deep locker. “I’ve got an old chart of the Pacific somewhere here. P’raps that will help you to remember. Ah, here it is!” Captain Grummitt carefully spread the sheet on the cabin table, and with a pudgy forefinger indicated the position of Christmas Island. “Now, you run your eye over that section,” he said. “There’s precious few places around there big enough to have a name, so it shouldn’t be a difficult job.” “Here it is――Fanning Island,” Dave announced. [Illustration: “Here it is――Fanning Island,” Dave announced] “Umph!” said the skipper, re-scratching his pate. “That gives you your bearings, in a manner of speaking, but you know them two islands aren’t quite as near to one another as they look on that chart. The next question is, how long had they passed Fanning before they hit the wreck?” “I don’t think he mentioned any definite time, but he said something about being a day’s steaming off their course,” said Dave, struggling to recall more of the ancient mariner’s yarn. “That helps in a way,” the skipper commented. “But which direction had she drifted in――east or west?” “I have no idea.” “Umph!” The captain was silent, lost in thought for a moment or two. “Did he say anything particular about the island?” he asked at length. “The wreck was in a lagoon,” Dave said, “and there was a reef of rocks outside the lagoon, because they thought the ship must have struck those rocks and drifted over them afterward on a very high tide.” “We’re getting on,” commented the skipper. “What else?” “I only remember one other thing. There was a sort of hill on the island, and in the distance it seemed to be shaped rather like a camel’s back.” “That’s definite enough. Of course there are lots of islands around those waters with lagoons, and a lagoon most generally has a bunch of rocks round it, but it’s long odds you wouldn’t find two islands there with a lagoon and a hill like a camel on it. There’s another thing. If you see a hill like a cow or a donkey, you’ll know it isn’t that one.”