h, it's
a haul, son; it's a haul, an' you can lay to that. Now, then, cabin
first," and he started aft.

But it was impossible to go into the cabin. The moment the door was
opened suffocating billows of gas rushed out and beat them back. On the
third trial the Captain staggered out, almost overcome with its volume.

"Can't get in there for a while yet," he gasped, "but I saw the stiff
on the floor by the table; looks like the old man. He's spit his false
teeth out. I knew there was a stiff aboard."

"Then there's more than one," said Wilbur. "See there!" From behind
the wheel-box in the stern protruded a hand and forearm in an oilskin
sleeve.

Wilbur ran up, peered over the little space between the wheel and the
wheel-box, and looked straight into a pair of eyes--eyes that were
alive. Kitchell came up.

"One left, anyhow," he muttered, looking over Wilbur's shoulder; "sailor
man, though; can't interfere with our salvage. The bark's derelict,
right enough. Shake him out of there, son; can't you see the lad's dotty
with the gas?"

Cramped into the narrow space of the wheel-box like a terrified hare in
a blind burrow was the figure of a young boy. So firmly was he wedged
into the corner that Kitchell had to kick down the box before he could
be reached. The boy spoke no word. Stupefied with the gas, he watched
them with vacant eyes.

Wilbur put a hand under the lad's arm and got him to his feet. He was
a tall, well-made fellow, with ruddy complexion and milk-blue eyes, and
was dressed, as if for heavy weather, in oilskins.

"Well, sonny, you've had a fine mess aboard here," said Kitchell. The
boy--he might have been two and twenty--stared and frowned.

"Clean loco from the gas. Get him into the dory, son. I'll try this
bloody cabin again."

Kitchell turned back and descended from the poop, and Wilbur, his arm
around the boy, followed. Kitchell was already out of hearing, and
Wilbur was bracing himself upon the rolling deck, steadying the young
fellow at his side, when the latter heaved a deep breath. His throat and
breast swelled. Wilbur stared sharply, with a muttered exclamation:

"My God, it's a girl!" he said.

IV. MORAN

Meanwhile Charlie had brought the "Bertha Millner" up to within hailing
distance of the bark, and had hove her to. Kitchell ordered Wilbur to
return to the schooner and bring over a couple of axes.

"We'll have to knock holes all through the house, and break in the
skylights