sed by the logic of the advice, and stung by the manner in which
Hiram had emphasized "sassy questions," pulled the peak of his cap
over his eyes, and became for once more in his life the autocrat of
the quarter-deck.

An hour later the packet was sluggishly butting waves with her blunt
bows in the lower harbor, Cap'n Sproul hanging to the weather-worn
wheel, and roaring perfectly awful profanity at the clumsy attempts
of his makeshift crew.

"I've gone to sea with most everything in the line of cat-meat on
two legs," he snarled to Hiram, who leaned against the rail puffing
at a long cigar with deep content, "but I'll be billy-hooed if I ever
saw six men before who pulled on the wrong rope every time, and pulled
the wrong way on every wrong rope. You take them and--and that
elephant," he added, grimly returning to that point of dispute, "and
we've got an outfit that I'm ashamed to have the Atlantic Ocean see
me in company with."

"Don't let that elephant fuss you up," said Hiram, complacently
regarding Imogene couched in the waist.

"But there ain't northin' sensible you can do with her."

Hiram cocked his cigar pertly.

"A remark, Cap'n Sproul, that shows you need a general manager with
foresight like me. When you get to hoistin' dirt in buckets she'll
be worth a hundred dollars an hour, and beat any steam-winch ever
operated."

Again the Cap'n felt resentment boil sourly within him. This doling
of plans and plot to him seemed to be a reflection on his
intelligence.

"Reckon it's buried deep, do you?" inquired Colonel Ward, a flavor
of satiric skepticism in his voice. He was gazing quizzically forward
to where Mr. Bodge sat on the capstan's drumhead, his nose elevated
with wistful eagerness, his whiskers flapping about his ears, his
eyes straight ahead.

"It's buried deep," said Hiram, with conviction. "It's buried deep,
because there's a lot of it, and it was worth while to bury it deep.
A man like Cap Kidd wa'n't scoopin' out a ten-foot hole and buryin'
a million dollars and goin' off and leavin' it to be pulled like a
pa'snip by the first comer."

"A million dollars!" echoed the Colonel.

"Northin' less! History says it. There was a lot of money flyin'
around the world in them days, and Cap Kidd knew how to get holt of
it. The trouble is with people, Colonel, they forget that there was
a lot of gold in the world before the 'Forty-niners' got busy."

"But Bodge," snorted the Colonel. "He--"

"Certa