“Oh, they’ve consented,” replied Jim, “that is, Tom’s father said he could go if Mr. Nye and the captain were willing and if Cap’n Pem went as mate and my folks said they’d agree to that, too.”
“Well, well!” chuckled their friend. “So now you’re going to ask Nye and try to get him to ship old Pem just to help you, I suppose! Well, there are worse mates than he’d make. Come in here, boys, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.”
As they entered the office the stranger turned and the boys saw he was a clean-shaven, leather-faced old man with a merry twinkle in his keen, blue eyes.
“Captain,” said the curator, “here are a couple of boys who want to ship on the Hector, Jimmy Lathrop and Tom Chester. You know Chester, the ship chandlery and hardware man, Tom’s father. How do you think they’ll do for whalemen? Boys, this is Captain Edwards of the Hector.”
Shaking hands cordially, the old whaleman considered for a moment.
“Hmm,” he said at last, “what’s your rating, boys, A. B.’s, boat steerers, coopers, cooks, cabin boys, navigators or just ordinary deck hands?”
The boys laughed.
“I don’t know,” admitted Jim. “Anything, if we can go, except cooks or coopers or boat steerers.”
“Then you’ve had previous experience, eh?” asked the captain striving to maintain a grave face. “What ships have you been on?”
“The Hector,” promptly replied Tom, with a grin. “We’ve been everything on her from stowaways to captain.”