In the social hour they made all manner of fun of me, or rather of the prospective watch. One said that the watch would prove to be second-hand; another that it wouldn’t go; a third that when it was wound the noise would be as loud as that made by the winding of a clock; and a fourth that watches of the kind were sold at five dollars the gross. They evidently endeavored to draw me out, but I was silent. Then they took up the ambergris and, in a serious way, began to discuss its value and uses. Several men thought that it was the perfume itself, but Kreelman insisted that it was the substance which prevented evaporation. Then tales were told of the fabulous sums which druggists had paid for the substance and more fabulous tales about the size and weight of various lumps of the article. Then some one asked: “Does Fancy Chest get the ambergris beside the watch?” One would think that such a foolish question would only have elicited a laugh; instead, it gave rise to an animated discussion. “If he does get both, he’ll be a kind of Crocus,” another declared. “And who was Crocus?” “He was a rich man—lived in New York—had more money than any other man in the world.” Though I was a boy, I had seen enough of my companions to know that any proffer of enlightenment would be resented; so I did not tell them that Croesus was intended. In answer to the first question, one of the men said, “This is the way I look at it. If sightin’ the biggest whale wins a prize, then the ambergris in it, which is so rarely found in whales, is a prize also and belongs to Fancy Chest.” The countenances of most of the men betrayed anxiety, but the expression changed and there was a roar of laughter when Ohoo said, “If Fancy Chest get watch and ambergris, den he get whole ting—de blubber, jaw bone and teeth. Why not? Dat ain’t no common sense.” The discussion now went on in a milder way and was quite prolonged. It ended with the emphatic statement of Kreelman: “Everybody, from captain down, has shipped on a lay. We all have our lay or share in the whale, and everything in him. If Fancy Chest shipped on one one-hundred-and-eightieth lay, that’s his part of the ambergris, and that’s all there is to it.” There was now general acquiescence, and I silently concurred. The next morning I was in the crow’s nest and the Gay Head Indian was, too. “I see somethin’,” he said. “Where?” “Off there on the weather bow.” I scanned the horizon earnestly and then asked, “What is it—a pod or a single whale?” “It ain’t no whale. Can’t you see it—just a faint little thing?” I regretted my defective vision. The Indian leaned forward, showing by his attitude and fixed look that he was intensely interested. I heard him mutter; and now I, too, was greatly interested. I fancied I could see a faint outline. The Indian renewed his muttering and suddenly broke out, “Boat ahoy!” Up came the captain’s voice, “Where away?” “Three points on the weather bow, sir. Looks like a whaleboat.”