A line was cast over the side, and Bill took hold to hoist the box on deck. He gave a tug, and then stopped suddenly.
"What in thunder yo' got toe eat in dere?" he growled. "Dat's lead, sho' 'nuff lead, an' no mistake. We got sinkers enough abo'd here fer all de fishin' yo'll do dis spring. Sam! Heldron, yo' Dutchman! Cap'n, come, all hands git a hold an' h'ist away. Man, I nigh broke my pore ole back wid de heft ob dat box."
They all tailed on to the line, and hoisted the box on deck.
"Get it below," said the man with the moustache and pale eyes; "we'll give you a hand."
In a few minutes the weighty box, which appeared to be of wood, was landed safely below in the cabin. The gentleman opened a small bottle of liquor, and offered a drink all around. It passed until Bahama Bill came to it, and he silently uptilted the bottle and drained it to the last drop, flinging it up the companionway and overboard.
"Good!" cried the gentlemen together. "Now for the open sea. Let's try to find out how quick we can get from here to the end of the reef." And suiting the action to the words, they sprang up the companionway, followed by the mate, who was now in a better frame of mind.
"Git de hook off'n de groun'," bawled Bill. "H'ist de jib." And he hauled flat the mainsheet, and rolled the wheel over as the short cable came in and the anchor broke clear.
Smart hoisted the head-sails, and they filled away for the open sea.
Smart sat aft upon the taffrail, and the two guests settled themselves upon boxes which Sam brought out in place of chairs. Bill held the wheel, heading the Sea-Horse down the narrow channel. She moved slowly in the light air, and the thin-faced man stretched out his long frame and looked her over critically.