"She's all right," answered Wilbur, before he could collect his
thoughts. But the Captain thought he had reference to the
"Bertha."

"I mean the kid we found in the wheel-box. He doesn't count in
our salvage. The bark's been abandoned as plain as paint. If I
thought he stood in our way," and Kitchell's jaw grew salient.
"I'd shut him in the cabin with the old man a spell, till he'd
copped off. Now then, son, first thing to do is to chop vents in
this yere house."

"Hold up--we can do better than that," said Wilbur, restraining
Kitchell's fury of impatience. "Slide the big skylight off--it's
loose already."

A couple of the schooner's hands were ordered aboard the "Lady
Letty," and the skylight removed. At first the pour of gas was
terrific, but by degrees it abated, and at the end of half an hour
Kitchell could keep back no longer.

"Come on!" he cried, catching up an axe; "rot the difference." All
the plundering instincts of the man were aroused and clamoring.
He had become a very wolf within scent of its prey--a veritable
hyena nuzzling about its carrion.

"Lord!" he gasped, "t' think that everything we see, everything we
find, is ours!"

Wilbur himself was not far behind him in eagerness. Somewhere