James and Halcott stood quietly by leaning on their rifles.
But they laughed with very joy as the men pulled out bowl after bowl of beaten gold, to the number of seven in all. These were far from artistic, but they were large and heavy.
Inside they were black with blood.
Chips stood up and wiped the perspiration from his brow.
“My eye and Betty Martin! Captain Halcott, here’s a go. Why, we’ll be all as rich as water-cresses.”
And he joyfully tossed his hat in the air, and kicked it up again as it descended.
Chips was a queer chap.
But having now relieved his feelings, the search was proceeded with.
And when it was all over, and nothing further to be found, the inventory of the treasure now exposed to view, every article of purest gold, was as follows:—
A. Seven bowls, weighing about twelve pounds each.