"Pour away," said Schumer; "this is only the beginning of the business; there's no knowing what is to come. Ah, here's something!"
He stood up, poured some water into the palm of his hand, examined what was in his palm, and then held out his dripping hand to Floyd.
In the palm lay a small black stone about the size of a pea.
"What is it?" asked Floyd.
Schumer laughed.
"Only a black pearl, worth maybe a hundred dollars. But it's fortune, all the same. We have struck it! A hundred dollars for half an hour's work for two men. It's good!"
He sat down on the coral, while Floyd, now deeply excited, took his seat beside him. The gulls cried and wheeled overhead, and the sun burned on the blue sea and the foam of the reef, and the wind blew the spray in their faces as they sat handing their treasure from one to the other, examining it and gloating over it.
Washed and dried now, its luster appeared. It was a perfect black pearl, not large, but of splendid quality, globular and slightly flattened on one side.
"It's worth more even than I thought at first," said Schumer. "It's a beauty. Well, we mustn't chuckle too soon; it may be the only pearl in the lagoon, though I don't think so. And the shell is of fine quality; all the indications are good."
"I thought all pearls were white," said Floyd. "Of course, I know nothing about them, and the only ones I have seen were in shop windows."