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"Send a boat and we'll give you what you want!" shouted Weaver.,The slender sensitive fingers of the specialist lifted the lids of the unseeing eyes. Intently he examined them, then with a quick smile that transformed his grave face to almost boyish gladness, he spoke.,At the conclusion of the service, Deacon Ringold called a few of the leading church members together and to them spoke his mind thus:,"Then why did you take it a'tall, I want'a know?",He found Captain Weaver, the master of the brig, and the captain of the brig in conversation. The skipper of the brig had made no[Pg 363] entry touching his falling in with the Minorca. He could depend upon nothing but his memory, and to the best of his recollection he had given to Captain Weaver the latitude and longitude in which he had spoken the Minorca on the morning before the previous day. It was at least certain that the barque was within easy sailing reach of the schooner; it was equally sure that the schooner was almost directly in the tail of the wake of the Minorca, and that if Captain Weaver continued the course he had been steering he was bound to overhaul her, providing the schooner was the swifter vessel.,The deacon stood perplexedly scratching his head. Then he started forward on a run to tell those who had planned with him a little surprise gift for the fishermen of the perfidy of human nature.,It was just at this juncture that Fatty Watland arrived; smiling and panting, with the pail, borrowed from his mother, full of drinking water. It took him but a moment to learn from one of the boys what had transpired. It took him still less time to reach the platform. There, with much humiliation of spirit and many "sirs," he explained to the greatly surprised, and it must be confessed, secretly relieved Mr. Johnston, the true state of affairs.,He sat down upon his chest, folded his arms and sank into thought. Had he needed a motto for his reflections he might have found one in the Duke of Gloster's speech:,"I know that," cried the Admiral. "But whatever the sum, it is good money and honestly earned, made not as you could make it in this place, and better a hundred pounds gained by toil which a man's conscience approves and applauds, than one hundred thousand fetched from the pockets of others by the crime of gambling.","Me singing!" exclaimed old John.,Above, the blue-white lightning zig-zagged and the boom of the thunder shook the earth. A huge elm shivered and shrieked as if in agony as a darting tongue of flame enwrapped it like a yellow serpent, splitting its heart in twain.,"No, er the buried money," sighed Cobin..