"Forty dollars a pound," he gasped. "Gib--Gib, my _dear_
boy--you've made us wealthy----"

Quickly Mr. Gibney ran the can opener around the edges of one
corner of the zinc box, inserted the claws of the hammer into the
opening, and with a quick, melodramatic twist, bent back the
angle thus formed.

Mr. Gibney was the first to get a peep inside.

[Illustration: "'_Great snakes,' he yelled--and fell back
against the cabin wall_"]

"Great snakes!" he yelled, and fell back against the cabin wall.
A hoarse scream of rage and horror broke from Captain Scraggs.
In his eagerness he had driven his head so deep into the box that
he came within an inch of kissing what the box contained--which
happened to be nothing more nor less than a dead Chinaman! Mr.
McGuffey, always slow and unimaginative, shouldered the skipper
aside, and calmly surveyed the ghastly apparition.

"Twig the yellow beggar, will you, Gib?" said McGuffey; "one eye
half open for all the world like he was winkin' at us an'
enjoyin' th' joke."

Not a muscle twitched in McGuffey's Hibernian countenance. He
scratched his head for a moment, as a sort of first aid to
memory, then turned and handed Mr. Gibney ten dollars.

"You win, Gib. It's Oriental goods, sure enough."