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Various

"Great Sea Stories"


Boys, we're rich, we sure are. It's the stroke of my life, and I can't
wait for no rowin' on board no schooners before we divide up."
"Come on, then," said Blood.
The sack was much bigger than its contents, so there was plenty of grip
for him as he seized one corner. Then, Harman grasping it by the neck,
they lugged it out and along the deck and down the saloon companionway,
Ginnell following.
The Chinese had opened nearly all the cabin port-holes for the sake of
light to assist them in their plundering, and now as Blood and Harman
placed the sack on the slanting saloon table, the crying of gulls came
clearly and derisively from the cliffs outside, mixed with the hush of
the sea and the boost of the swell as it broke creaming and squattering
among the rocks. The lackadaisical ventilator cowl, which took an
occasional movement from stray puffs of air, added its voice now and
then, whining and complaining like some lost yet inconsiderable soul.
No other sound could be heard as the three men ranged themselves,
Ginnell on the starboard, and Blood and Harman on the port side of the
table.
The swivel seats, though all aslant, were practicable, and Harman was
in the act of taking his place in the seat he had chosen when Ginnell
interposed.


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