"You can come on board and look around, if you wish," called out the owner of the schooner. "I want you to satisfy yourself that you are mistaken."
"Shall we go?" whispered Tom. "It may be a trap?"
"He seems honest enough."
"Supposing I go and you stay in the rowboat? Then, if anything happens, you can call on Aleck and Peterson for help."
So it was arranged, and in a minute more Tom was climbing up the ladder which had been thrown over the Peacock's side.
"Is the other young fellow coming?" asked the captain, who did not fancy this move.
"No."
The captain scowled, but said no more.
Once on deck Tom looked around him curiously, and then moved toward the companion way leading to the cabin. He felt instinctively that he was in a dangerous position. As he crossed the deck several ill-appearing sailors gazed at him curiously, but said nothing—being under strict orders from the captain to remain silent in the presence of the stranger.
The cabin of the Peacock was a small affair, considering the general size of the schooner, and contained but little in the shape of furniture.