"It smells pretty good, whatever it is," he answered. Moran came up
to where he stood, and looked at the slit he had made in the whale's
carcass. Out of it was bulging some kind of dull white matter marbled
with gray. It was a hard lump of irregular shape and about as big as a
hogshead.

Moran glanced over to the junk, some forty feet distant. The
beach-combers were hoisting the lug-sail. Hoang was at the steering oar.

"Get that stuff aboard," she commanded quietly.

"That!" exclaimed Wilbur, pointing to the lump.

Moran's blue eyes were beginning to gleam.

"Yes, and do it before the Chinamen see you."

"But--but I don't understand."

Moran stepped to the quarterdeck, unslung the hammock in which Wilbur
slept, and tossed it to him.

"Reeve it up in that; I'll pass you a line, and we'll haul it aboard.
Godsend, those vermin yonder have got smells enough of their own without
noticing this. Hurry, mate, I'll talk afterward."

Wilbur went over the side, and standing as best he could upon the
slippery carcass, dug out the lump and bound it up in the hammock.

"Hoh!" exclaimed Moran, with sudden exultation. "There's a lot of
it. That's the biggest lump yet, I'll be bound. Is that all there is,
mate?--look carefully." Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Yes, yes; that's all. Careful now when you haul up--Hoang has got his
eye on you, and so have the rest of them. What do you call it, anyhow?
Why are you so particular about it? Is it worth anything?"

"I don't know--perhaps. We'll have a look at it, anyway."

Moran hauled the stuff aboard, and Wilbur followed.

"Whew!" he exclaimed with half-closed eyes. "It's like the story of
Samson and the dead lion--the sweet coming forth from the strong."

The schooner seemed to swim in a bath of perfumed air; the membrane of
the nostrils fairly prinkled with the sensation. Moran unleashed the
hammock, and going down upon one knee examined the lump attentively.

"It didn't seem possible," Wilbur heard her saying to herself; "but
there can't be any mistake. It's the stuff, right enough. I've heard of
such things, but this--but this--" She rose to her feet, tossing back
her hair.

"Well," said Wilbur, "what do you call it?"

"The thing to do now," returned Moran, "is to get clear of here as
quietly and as quickly as we can, and take this stuff with us. I can't
stop to explain now, but it's big--it's big. Mate, it's big as the Bank
of England."

"Those beach-comber