theories of where the opium was stowed; and as they seemed to have been eavesdropping on ourselves, I thought little shame to prick up my ears when I had the return chance of spying upon them, in this way. I could diagnose their temper and judge how far they were informed upon the mystery of the Flying Scud. It was after having thus overheard some almost mutinous speeches that a fortunate idea crossed my mind. At night, I matured it in my bed, and the first thing the next morning, broached it to the captain.
“Suppose I spirit up the hands a bit,” I asked, “by the offer of a reward?”
“If you think you're getting your month's wages out of them the way it is, I don't,” was his reply. “However, they are all the men you've got, and you're the supercargo.”
This, from a person of the captain's character, might be regarded as complete adhesion; and the crew were accordingly called aft. Never had the captain worn a front more menacing. It was supposed by all that some misdeed had been discovered, and some surprising punishment was to be announced.
“See here, you!” he threw at them over his shoulder as he walked the deck, “Mr. Dodd here is going to offer a reward to the first man who strikes the opium in that wreck. There's two ways of making a donkey go—both good, I guess; the one's kicks and the other's carrots. Mr. Dodd's going to try the carrots. Well, my sons,”—and here he faced the men for the first time with his hands behind him—“if that opium's not found in five days, you can come to me for the kicks.”
He nodded to the present narrator, who took up the tale. “Here is what I propose, men,” said I: “I put up one hundred and fifty dollars. If any man can lay hands on the stuff right away, and off his own
