“Then you are all right, for I have the other things.”
From the professor the boys learned that the steamer for La Guayra, the nearest seaport to Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, would sail three days later.
“There is a sailing every ten days,” said Professor Strong. “The steamers are not as large as those which cross the Atlantic but they are almost as comfortable, and I have seen to it that we shall have the best of the staterooms. The trip will take just a week, unless we encounter a severe storm which drives us back.”
“I don’t want to meet a storm,” said Hockley.
“Afraid of getting seasick,” came from Frank.
“Not exactly,” snapped the lank youth. “Perhaps you’ll get seasick yourself.”
“Does this steamer belong to the only line running to Venezuela?” asked Sam.
“This is the only regular passenger line. There are other lines, carrying all sorts of freight, which run at irregular intervals, and then there are sailing vessels which often stop there in going up or down the coast.”
The three days to follow passed swiftly, for at the last moment the professor and the boys found plenty of things to do. On the day when the steamer was to sail, Sam’s mother came down from Boston to see her son off, and the parents of Mark and Frank were also on hand, so that there was quite a family gathering. The baggage was already aboard, a trunk and a traveling case for each, as well as a leather bag for the guns and ammunition.
At last came the familiar cry, “All ashore that’s going!” and the last farewells were said. A few minutes later the gang-plank was withdrawn and the lines unloosened. As the big steamer began to move, something like a lump arose in Frank’s throat.