you two think I
didn't do right by the syndicate a-runnin' up a bill of expense
towing this craft into port. I ain't goin' to stand for no
kiddin', even if we are in a five-hundred-dollar towage bill. Man
is human an' bound to make mistakes."

"Don't kid the commodore, Scraggsy. This aromer o' roses is
more'n a strong man can stand, so cut out the josh."

"All right, Mac. I guess the commodore's foot slipped this time,
but I ain't squawkin' yet."

"No. Not _yet_," cried Mr. Gibney bitterly, "but soon."

"I ain't, nuther," Captain Scraggs assumed an air of injured
virtue. "I'm a-willin' to go through with you, Gib, at a loss,
for nothin' else except to convince you o' the folly o' makin'
this a one-man syndicate. I ain't a-kickin', but I'm free to
confess that I'd like to be consulted _oncet_ in a while."

"That's logic," rumbled the single-minded McGuffey.

"You dirty welchers," roared the commodore. "I ain't askin' you
two to take chances with _me_. Me an' Neils'll take this deal
over independent o' the syndicate."

"Well, let's dress this here diver," retorted the cautious
Scraggs, "an' send him into the hold for a look around before we
make up our minds." Captain Scraggs was not a man to take
chances.

They moored the launch to the wreck and commenced operations. Mr.
Gibney worked the air pump while the diver, ax in hand, dropped
into the murky depths of the flooded hold. He was down half an
hour before he signalled to be pulled up. All hands sprang to the
line to haul him back to daylight, and the instant he popped
clear of the water Mr. Gibney unburdened himself of an agonized
curse.

In his hands the diver held a large decayed codfish!

Captain Scraggs turned a sneering glance upon the unhappy
commodore while McGuffey sat down on the damp rail of the
derelict and laughed until the tears coursed down his honest
face.

"A dirty little codfishin' schooner," raved Captain Scraggs, "an'
you a-sinkin' the time an' money o' the syndicate in rotten
codfish on the say-so of a clairvoyant you ain't even been
interduced to. Gib, if that's business, all I got to say is:
'Excuse _me_'."

Mr. Gibney seized the defunct fish from the diver's hand, tore it
in half, slapped Captain Scraggs with one awful fragment and
hurled the other at McGuffey.

"I'm outer the syndicate," he raved, beside himself with anger.
"Here I go to work an' make a fortune for a pair of short sports an'
pikers an' you get to squealin' a