p his treasure-trove to view. "What hev ye got thaar,
ship met?"

"Sorry o' me knows," returned the other, examining the object closely.
"Seems like one o' them blessed saints they has in the cathedral at
Lima, which I went over one day last v'y'ge I took this side, when I
sailed from Shields to Valparaiso, and arterwards come up the coast, our
skipper looking out for a cargy, instead o' going back home in ballast.
It seems a pretty sort o' himage, too, bo, and I'm hanged if I don't
think it's gold, for it's precious heavy for its size, I can tell you!"

"Chuck it over hyar an' let's see what it's like," said Hiram, his
curiosity at once roused. "I'll soon tell ye if it's hunkydory ez soon
ez I hev the handlin' on it; fur I ken smell the reel sort, I guess, an'
knows it likewise by the feel it kinder hez about it."

"Right you are, bo," sang out Tom Bullover, pitching it towards him.
"Catch!"

"Bully far yer!" cried Hiram, putting up his hands and clutching hold of
the figure as, well thrown by the other, it came tumbling into his ready
grasp. "I'll soon tell ye what it's made on, I reckon!"

He thereupon proceeded to inspect the object carefully, giving it a lick
of his tongue and rough polish with his palms, to remove the dirt and
dust with which it was partly encrusted, sniffing at it and handling it
as if it were a piece of putty.

"Well, bo," asked Tom at length, tired of waiting and eager to learn the
result of the other's examination; "is it all right?"

"You bet," responded Hiram, tossing up the image in the air and catching
it again, and raising a triumphant shout that at once attracted the
attention of the other hands, who dropped their pickaxes and shovels
instanter and came clustering round. "I'm jiggered if it ain't gold,
an' durned good metal, too, with nary a bit o' bogus stuff about it.
Hooray!"

"Hooray!" yelled out the rest of the men in sympathy, the precious
figure being passed round from one to another, so that each could see it
in turn and judge for himself. "Hooray!"

"Hillo!" cried Captain Snaggs, noticing the commotion and coming
bustling up, with his wiry goatee beard bristling and his pointed nose
and keen eyes all attention. "What d'ye mean droppin' work an loafin'
up hyar in a crowd, makin' all that muss fur, hey?"

"We've just found this here figger, sir," explained Tom Bullover; "and
Hiram says it's made o' gold."

"Thet's so, cap," corroborated the American sailor. "It