"Clean money?"

"Aye, yer reverence."

"From the wreck, Denny?"

"Aye, father dear, from the last wrack."

"Without blood on it, my son?"

"Widout so much as a drop o' blood on it, so help me Saint Peter!"

"And the other lads, Denny? Are ye the only one in the harbor able to
pay me something for the building of a church?"

There was the one question on the good priest's tongue and another in
his clear eyes.

"I bes skipper, father dear, an' takes skipper's shares and pays
skipper's shares," replied Nolan. "But for me there'd not bin one bottle
o' wine come to us from the wrack an' the poor folks aboard her would
never have got ashore in their boats for want of a light on the
land-wash. As I kin spare ye fifty pounds for the holy work, yer
reverence, there bes nineteen men o' this harbor kin each be sparin' ye
ten."

Father McQueen nodded his gray head.

"Then we'll have the little church, Denny," he said. "Aye, lad, we'll