“Sure as eggs is eggs,” answered Bill.
“Can we catch any?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Bill. “I daresay we can if we likes; but I seed some as fat as butter, and an old sow with a lot of young uns. But that ain’t all; there’s something else.”
“What is it? Tell us at once.”
“Do you remember the writing on the table, and that we couldn’t find out what ‘money’ meant?”
“Certainly; but what’s that got to do with what you found?”
“Why, I’ve found the money, and a mighty lot there be, I can tell you. Gold guineas—thousands of them!”
CHAPTER VIII.
A NARROW ESCAPE.
“Nonsense, lad,” said Tom. “No craft that sailed these waters ever had thousands of guineas aboard of her, seeing as how there isn’t no use for money in these here parts. All the trade is with beads and iron and such like.”
“Maybe so; but the money’s here, and I found it. It seems as if the man who lived up in our hut, he were separated from his mates, and that he had the money one time.”