This offer the little chap had eagerly accepted, for he believed he must be of American birth, and somehow longed to set foot on that land far across the sea.
Some years had passed.
Darry knew no other home save the friendly cabin of the brigantine, and since he had no knowledge as to what his name might be, by degrees he came to assume that of his benefactor.
During these years the boy had seen much of the world, and learned many things under the guidance of the warm-hearted captain.
Of course he spent many bitter hours in vain regrets over the fact that there was so little chance of his ever learning his identity—only a slender link seemed to connect him with that mysterious past that was hidden from his sight; and this was a curious little scar upon his right arm just below the elbow.
It looked like a crescent moon, and had been there ever since he could remember.
This fact caused Darry to believe it might be the result of some accident that must have occurred while he was yet a baby.
If such were the case then some people, somewhere, would be apt to recognize this peculiar mark if they ever saw it again.
Captain Harley had always encouraged him in the belief that some happy day he would surely know the truth.
Just now, however, it really looked as though Darry need no longer allow himself to feel any anxiety on that score.