Garnett muttered something, as he glared astern at the crowd on the beach, and passed Gantline the bailer from the after-locker.
He then headed the boat for the schooner, which had been working in all the morning, and now lay hove-to about a mile distant.
In a little while they were on board and Captain Foregaff was handed the receipts of his trade, which he carried below and deposited in a strong box; making a note afterwards, in a small book, of the percentage due his mates. Then he came on deck, and as the boat was dropped astern he drew away his head-sheets and stood to the eastward.
On going forward he noticed the keg they had brought back with them and instantly demanded to know its contents.
“It’s a find o’ grease,” said Garnett, as he picked it up and carried it aft, where he deposited it carefully in the cockpit.
“Find o’ what?” asked Foregaff, as he and Gantline followed hard in his wake.
“Find o’ whale grease,” said the mate. “It’s the stuff that sells so high in the States. I found it in the surf, and Gantline here has been trying to prove half of it his because he was along with me.”
“Well, where, in the name o’ Davy Jones, do I come in on this deal?” bawled Foregaff. “Ain’t we running this business on shares, I want’er know?”
“So far as concerns trade, you’re right; but d’ye mean to say that what I find ain’t my own?” said the mate in a menacing tone.
“Trade be blowed! Gantline and I come in on this, share an’ share alike. Knock in the head o’ the keg an’ let’s have a look at it.” And the skipper’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.