masthers. Whin Oi grow
up Oi shipped on a tradin' schooner in which we wus cast away near
Nassau. There Oi joined an English ship; n' fur foive years put in the
loife av a sailor forninst the mast. Me heart always longed fur the
sunlit, happy oisland an' me people an' at lasht Oi got back there, an'
there Oi married Betsy thet ye will see on her beam ends on the sofia.
Soon afther, in company with others, Oi bought fur a trifle, a schooner
that wuz wrecked on the Keys. Afther hard wuerk we got her afloat, an'
re-masted. We did good wuerk in her as a wrecker. Wan be wan Oi bought
me comrades out, until to-day Oi am masther av the good little craft
that's under yez. Me wife is always the companion av me voyages. Ehen
she has the will to shake hersel', she can put more weight on a rope
then the balance av the crew. An' there's not a cook in the gay city of
Paris that equal her. Me business is tradin' and wreckin.' Mr. C. tould
me that ye had submarine armour an' some improved dredgin' appyratus.
Now Oi know where both will be useful to ye an' to me. There's many a
wreck that Oi know, that's out av me reach wid the appliances Oi have.
Wid your appyratus we can get treasure in abundance."

His stories of wrecks and treasures were of deep interest to Paul.
Gladly would he have joined the captain, but his father owned the
submarine armour and apparatus and he felt that he ought to consult him
first. But he promised to answer Captain Balbo later on. A was about to
leave the schooner, he remarked, "Your good lady sleeps very soundly,
but she is very fat."

"That fat, me b'y," responded Balbo, "is av great valey to me. The
English law makes us to give wan fourth av all treasure trove; but
it's devilish little they find on board the 'Foam' afther me wife lands.
They ofthen remark to me, that it's queer how fat Betsy is whin she
goes ashore an' how much flesh she loses afther a short sojourn. Now, me
b'y, Oi'll meet ye to-morrow. Oi loike ye an' Oi hope ye'll jine me.
Ye'll niver regret the day ye do. An' now ye black devils," he said,
turning to the boat's crew, "set this young gintleman safe ashore, er
be the port bow av Noah's ark. Oi'll break ivery bone in yer black
shkins. Good night, God bless ye, me son," was shouted over the dark
waters as the boat shot away to the landing.

That night Paul entertained Mr. C. with an account of his visit to the
"Foam" and his interview with the captain. Mr. C.