When he lay as still as if dead they looked at each other with satisfaction.
"He won't bother us any more—at least, not for awhile," was Shamhaven's comment.
"Quick, de money belt!" came from Peterson, and as he raised up Larry's head, Shamhaven secured it and stowed it away in the bosom of his shirt. "You no keep him!" he went on, in alarm, showing that he did not trust his companion in crime.
"We'll divide up afterwards," said Shamhaven, briefly. "Now to locate the captain's little pile."
Both tiptoed their way into Captain Ponsberry's stateroom. Here there was a small safe, with the door closed.
"A safe, eh?" said Shamhaven. "Wonder if we can open it?"
He knelt down and tried to work the combination lock. The safe was old and out of order and the captain had had the combination lock made as simple as possible in consequence. Soon there came a click, followed by another, and the bolts shot back.
"Luck is with us!" cried Shamhaven.
"Dare is de leetle pag," came from Peterson, and reaching into the safe he drew the article forth. There was a slip string at the top which he pulled apart.
"Gold!" he cried. "See—dirty—forty bieces
