ought his weight on the ball of one foot, and
turned around. The canvas crumbled to threads, showing the wood
beneath. "Let's go below. If there were any Spaniards here they'd
have shown themselves before this." The cabin doors were latched but
not locked, and they opened them.

"Hold on," said the doctor, "this cabin may have been closed for years,
and generated poisonous gases. Open that upper door, Boston."

Boston ran up the shaky poop ladder and opened the companion-way above,
which let a stream of the fresh morning air and sunshine into the
cabin, then, after a moment or two, descended and joined the other, who
had entered from the main-deck. They were in an ordinary ship's cabin,
surrounded by staterooms, and with the usual swinging lamp and tray;
but the table, chairs, and floor were covered with fine dust.

"Where the deuce do you get so much dust at sea?" coughed the doctor.

"Nobody knows, Doc. Let's hunt for the manifest and the articles.
This must have been the skipper's room." They entered the largest
stateroom, and Boston opened an old-fashioned desk. Among the
discolored documents it contained, he found one and handed it to the
doctor. "Articles," he said; "look at it." Soon he took out another.
"I've got it. Now we'll find what she has in her hold, and if it's
worth bothering about."

"Great Scott!" exclaimed the doctor; "this paper is dated 1844, fifty
years ago." Boston looked over his shoulder.

"That's so; she signed her crew at Boston, too. Where has she been all
this time? Let's see this one."

The manifest was short, and stated that her cargo was 3000 barrels of
lime, 8000 kids of tallow, and 2500 carboys of acid, 1700 of which were
sulphuric, the rest of nitric acid. "That cargo won't be much good to
us, Doc. I'd hope to find something we could use. Let's find the
log-book, and see what happened to her." Boston rummaged what seemed
to be the first-mate's room. "Plenty of duds here," he said; "but
they're ready to fall to pieces. Here's the log."

He returned with the book, and, seated at the dusty table, they turned
the yellow leaves. "First departure, Highland Light, March 10, 1844,"
read Boston. "We'll look in the remarks column."

Nothing but the ordinary incidents of a voyage were found until they
reached the date June 1st, where entry was made of the ship being
"caught aback" and dismasted off the Cape of Good Hope in a sudden
gale. Then followed daily "rem