"That will suit, as I have nothing in the world to do; I only want to run down to the hotel and tell Tom."
"Who's Tom?"
"He's the boy that came with me from home; he'll be mightily pleased when he hears the news."
"Suppose you walk down with me, and take a look at the boat; it isn't far off."
As Jim could see no reason for refusing, and as he hadn't the slightest thought of wrong, he replied that he would be glad to accept the invitation; and the two started off toward the wharves.
The well-dressed gentleman, who gave his name as Mr. Hornblower, kept up a running chat of the most interesting nature to Jim, who was sure he was one of the finest persons he ever met. The walk was considerably longer than Jim expected, and the man acted as if he had lost his way. He finally recovered himself, and, pausing where a number of all kinds of boats were gathered, he said that his schooner, the Simoon, lay on the outside, and was to be reached by passing over the decks of several other boats.
These lay so close, that there was no difficulty or danger in traveling over them, and they soon reached the deck of a trim-looking schooner, which was as silent and apparently as deserted as the tomb. Reaching the cabin, a light was seen shining through the crevices, and Mr. Hornblower drew the small door aside, and invited his young companion to descend.
Jim did so, and found himself in an ordinary-looking cabin, quite well furnished, and supplied with a couple of hammocks.
A small stove was burning, and the temperature was exceedingly pleasant after the bleak air outside, where the raw wind blew strongly up the bay.
"I wouldn't want a better place than this to stay," said the delighted lad, taking a seat on a camp-stool.