"But must we have that lamp?
It glares and makes the cabin hot." "The moon's better than all the lamps," said Martin, and put it out.

He sat on his bunk and the gleam of his cigarette came and went.

It was like a big firefly in the half dark cabin.

"To-morrow," he said to himself, with a tingle running through his blood, "to-morrow--and Joan." Tootles waited for him to speak.

She might as well have been miles away for all that she affected him.