ed in saving her and her cargo, we stand a chance
of making several thousand dollars salvage money, which I for one do
not care to throw away."

"You are quite right," said Mr. Elmer. "It is seldom that we are
offered an opportunity of doing good and being well paid for it at the
same time, and it would be foolish, as well as heartless, not to render
what assistance lies in our power."

The schooner was already headed towards the wreck, but approached it
very slowly, owing to the light breeze that barely filled her sails. As
the sun rose, and cast a broad flood of light over the tranquil scene,
the captain anxiously scanned the line of the reef in both directions
through his glass.

"Ah, I thought so!" he exclaimed; "there they come, and there, and
there. I can count six already. Now we shall have a race for it."

"Who? what?" asked Mark, not understanding the captain's exclamations.

"Wreckers!" answered the captain. "Take the glass, and you can see
their sails coming from every direction; and they have seen us long ago
too. I actually believe those fellows can smell a wreck a hundred miles
off. Halloo there, forward! Stand by to lower the gig."

"What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Elmer.

"I am going to try and reach that wreck before any of the boats whose
sails you can see slipping out from behind those low keys. The first
man aboard that ship is 'wreck-master,' and gets the largest share of
salvage money."

So saying, "Captain Li" swung himself over the side and into the light
gig, which, with its crew of four lusty young Maine sailors, had
already been got overboard and now awaited him. As he seized the tiller
ropes he shouted, "Now, then, give way! and a hundred dollars extra
salvage to you four if this gig is the first boat to lay alongside of
that wreck."

At these words the long ash oars bent like willow wands in the grasp of
the young Northern giants, and the gig sprang away like a startled
bonito, leaving a long line of bubbles to mark her course.

The wreck was still three miles off; and, with the glass, small boats
could be seen shooting away from several of the approaching wrecking
vessels.

"It's a race between Conchs and Yankees," said Jan Jansen to Mark.

"What are Conchs?" asked the boy.

"Why, those fellows in the other boats. Most of them come from the
Bahama Islands, and all Bahamians are called 'Conchs,' because they eat
so many of the shell-fish of that name."

"Well, I'll bet