The next day Smart and his owner—owner no longer, for his vessel was too badly wrecked to use again as a yacht—rowed out to get what personal belongings they wanted before starting for Key West. Upon the deck of the Sayonara stood the giant mate of the Sea-Horse.
"What yo' want abo'd here?" asked the black man, as they came alongside.
"What d' you mean?" asked Dunn smartly.
"Well, this here wessel was abandoned—left by her crew—an' I be here to take charge," drawled the black. "Yo' cayn't take nothin' away from her without my permission. Ef yo' want to make a deal wid the skipper, he's abo'd de Sea-Horse. We generally claims two-third salvage. Yo' kin make de deal wid him—see?"
Dunn didn't see, but Smart finally convinced him of the truth. It was humiliating, but there was no help for it—it was the law.
"Right fine ship, cap'n," leered Bahama Bill to Smart, after things were settled; "seems a shame to have to wrack her. Wouldn't yo' like a job as cook till yo' git another berth?"
Later they towed her hull into Key West.