"This kind of a whale doesn't have the sort of bone that is valuable, I believe," suggested Frank. "It's only for the oil that they're hunted. But still, if we can get this one we ought to knock out a pretty penny."
"If there was a lump of ambergris in it we all be millionaires!" exclaimed Andy eagerly.
"Well, of course ambergris is said to be found in dead whales," admitted Frank, as he cast a look over his shoulder to observe their course, "but our whale isn't dead yet."
"And? maybe we won't get it after all," went on Bob. "Have you seen him spout lately?"
"No, but then he may have sounded and it will be about fifteen minutes before he comes up again," announced Frank. "Was he nearly dead, Bob?"
"Pretty far gone. Some gulls were hovering over him in anticipation, I guess, and that's a good sign."
"I wonder what mom will say," came from Frank, after a pause. "We sort of promised we wouldn't go whaling again, Andy."
"I don't believe she'd care if she knew how it was, but we didn't have time to tell her. Besides, she doesn't like to be interrupted when she golfing. Anyhow, this whale is nearly dead and there can't be any harm going for a dead one. I was a live one she and dad were thinking about when they warned us."
"I guess so," agreed Frank. "Anyhow we're out now and we might as well keep on. I wonder——"
"There she blows again!" interrupted Bob excitedly, and he stopped rowing long enough, to point to a spot in the bay not far distant.