"There's no doubt that the value of the _Catspaw_ and her cargo is a
sight more than these fellows offer us," resumed Mr. Hyatt, quite as
though he had not heard the question. "But there's the old adage about a
bird on toast being worth more than a bird on the telegraph wire." He
chuckled deeply. "And, of course, no owner ever thinks of paying the
full value of salvaged property. Nor does the court expect him to.
Something like an equable division is what they try to award."
"Yes, sir," murmured Steve nervously. "Yes, sir. Would you mind--"
"You said something yesterday about a thousand dollars, and I told you
you might expect that much, didn't I?"
Steve nodded silently.
"Well--" The lawyer took up a sheet of creased yellow paper from the
desk and ran his eyes along the message thereon. "Well, I've got to tell
you they don't offer you a thousand, boys."
"Oh!" murmured Steve.
"Don't they?" gasped Joe weakly.
"Then what--" began Wink dejectedly.
"They offer you--" Mr. Hyatt leaned forward in the protesting chair and
held the telegram toward Steve--"they offer you four thousand, seven
hundred and sixty-one dollars, young gentlemen."
* * * * *
Isn't this a good place to end our story? I might tell how they wired
the good news to Neil, and how they set forth that afternoon for New
York, and how, after a jolly but uneventful trip, the two boats parted
company off Bay Shore, and how the _Adventurer_, having done her best to
deserve the name she bore, at last sidled up to a slip in the yacht
basin and discharged her crew.
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