“Yes,” Swen agreed at once when he had been told of the discovery, “those barrels of oil are worth quite a little. If it’s linseed oil they’d be worth fifty dollars apiece. Lubricating oil is cheaper, but would be worth going after. Dive down and put on grappling hooks. Drag them up on the reef. That should be easy.”
“Well!” Florence exclaimed. “We’ve been ‘three last passengers’ and castaways. Now we are about to turn wreckers!”
And wreckers they were. They found it an easy task to attach the grappling irons, then with a cable attached to Swen’s small power boat to drag the first two barrels to the dry surface of the jagged reef.
The third barrel presented difficulties. It appeared unusually heavy. Twice the hooks slipped off. The third time the capstan on the boat gave way. But in time this third barrel lay beside its two companions on the reef, well above water.
“There you are!” Swen exulted. “A fine day’s work! We’ll just tie up and have a look.” He nosed the boat inshore.
“Huh!” he grunted a short time later. “Two barrels of lubricating oil. Not so good.
“But look!” he exclaimed. “What’s this? This third barrel has rubbed against the rock until it got a hole in its side. No oil in that.”
Just at that moment Florence caught sight of something that set her heart racing—a glint of gold from that hole in the barrel.
“Sw-wen!” she said shakily. “Just help me roll that barrel over.”
“Why? What?” Swen complied, and as he did so a golden coin rolled from the hole in the barrel.