"Likely to net you chaps a handsome profit, indeed, after all this Treasure Cove fight heaped up on top of your various other exploits. I'll wager you it's a young fortune you draw down at Bridgeford before you go back to school."
"Perhaps more than we deserve," offered Jay.
"More than you deserve?" Captain Austin's voice rose to a high pitch. "You chaps surely merit every single dollar that will be paid to you. And it will be a good roll, my boys. Just think of it. First of all, you have the thousand dollars each that were voted you by President Walter, of the Salvage Company. Now you get a bonus on all the treasure that we have reclaimed in addition to the wage scale agreed upon in your contract. On top of this is still another item."
Both boys looked up.
"Don't forget that the United States Government offered a prize for the capture of Carl Weddigen."
"But we didn't capture Weddigen—it was Fismes," protested Jay in happy vein.
"All right then, have it your own way; Fismes gets the prize money from Uncle Sam," laughed Captain Austin.
Arm in arm, the trio retreated from the deck of the Jules Verne in quest of one good square meal and a full night's sleep after nearly a week of the merriest kind of adventure—actors in a great game of treasure hunting. Out on deck a brown-haired police dog stretched himself luxuriously and nestled his jaw into the embrace of two paws crossed scissor-like.
In September, on a morning that dawned in full autumnal splendor, two young men stood on the station platform at Bridgeford awaiting a train bound for New York. With them were many friends, young and old, including officials and employes from the big shipbuilding yard. They had come to wish a farewell to these two youths bound for Winchester and the opening of the new school year at Brighton Academy.