and
Sam Yups."

Moran fell thoughtful, digging her boot-heel into the sand, her thumbs
hooked into her belt, her forehead gathered into a heavy frown. There
was a silence.

"One thing," she said, at last; "we can't give up the schooner. They
would take our stores as well, and then where are we? Marooned, by Jove!
How far do you suppose we are from the nearest town? Three hundred miles
wouldn't be a bad guess, and they've got the loot--our ambergris--I'll
swear to that. They didn't leave that aboard when the junk sank."

"Look here, Charlie," she said, turning to the Chinaman. "If the
beach-combers take the schooner--the 'Bertha Millner'--from us we'll be
left to starve on this beach."

"I tink um yass."

"How are we going to get home? Are you going to let them do it? Are you
going to let them have our schooner?"

"I tink no can have."

"Look here," she went on, with sudden energy. "There are only nine of
them now, to our eight. We're about even. We can fight those swine. I
know we can. If we jumped their camp and rushed them hard, believe
me, we could run them into the sea. Mate," she cried, suddenly facing
Wilbur, "are you game? Have you got blood in you? Those beach-comberes
are going to attack us to-morrow, before high tide--that's flat. There's
going to be a fight anyway. We can't let them have the schooner. It's
starvation for us if we do.

"They mean to make a dash for the 'Bertha,' and we've got to fight them
off. If there's any attacking to be done I propose to do it! I propose
we jump their camp before it gets light--now--to-night--right away--run
in on them there, take them by surprise, do for one or two of them if we
have to, and get that ambergris. Then cut back to the schooner, up our
sails, and wait for the tide to float us off. We can do it--I know we
can. Mate, will you back me up?"

"Back you up? You bet I'll back you up, Moran. But--" Wilbur hesitated.
"We could fight them so much more to advantage from the deck of the
schooner. Why not wait for them aboard? We could have our sails up,
anyhow, and we could keep the beach-combers off till the tide rose high
enough to drive them back. Why not do that?"

"I tink bes' wait topside boat," assented Charlie.

"Yes; why not, Moran?"

"Because," shouted the girl, "they've got our loot. I don't propose to
be plundered of $150,000 if I can help it."

"Wassa dat?" demanded Charlie. "Hunder fiftee tlousand you hab got?"

"I did have it--we had i