It was certain that the ship had come there when this part of the country was very thinly settled, for there was no one in the neighborhood who was able to give the exact facts in the case; but the story of the British war-vessel was a very good one, and was generally believed.
Chap Webster was one of a few persons who felt sure that there was a lot of British gold buried in this wreck.
“All war-vessels have to carry quantities of money,” he argued, “to pay off the crew and to do ever so many other things. And then, sometimes, they have prize-money aboard.”
The two boys walked out as far as the river-beach was firm enough to give them footing, and gazed at the wreck.
The tide was at its lowest ebb, and as much of the sunken vessel was visible as it was possible to see at any time.
The prospect was certainly not a hopeful one to any person who had an idea of raising the old wreck. A few ribs stuck up in a mournful way out of the watery mud, and that was all.
“Why, Chap,” said Phil, “we would have to take out twenty scow-loads of mud before we could get at the fore-part of that vessel, and then we would not find anything worth having, anyway. All the valuables on board a ship are kept in the officers’ quarters, near the stern, and that is sunk in deep water.”
“Mud wouldn’t matter,” said the sanguine Chap. “We could blow all that out at once with the giant-powder.”
“And the people all over the county would think, the next morning, that it had been raining mud in the night,” said Phil.
“I don’t care what they’d think,” said Chap; “and I’m not at all sure about the treasure being always in the stern; but if it is there, and we could lower down a big, water-tight cartridge and explode it, we might loosen things so that they would float up.”