“And what would be her price?”
“Dunno. All depends,” grunted the captain. “Most likely as much as the builder could get; but if a man went with the money in his pocket, or say in the bank, ready to pay down on the nail, he could get a smart craft that would do him justice at a fair working price. What do you say to coming over and having a look at her?”
“Yes. How are we to get there? By coach?”
“Tchah!” ejaculated the skipper. “Who’s going in a coach when he can be run over in one of our luggers? You say the word, and I have got a friend with a little fore-and-after as only wants him and a hand and mebbe me to give a pull at a sheet. He’d run you over in no time.”
“By all means, then, let’s go,” said Uncle Paul, to Rodd’s great satisfaction.
“Well, yes,” growled the skipper. “But who’s a-going with you?”
“My nephew,” said Uncle Paul.
“Ah, yes; and I suppose he’s a good judge of such a craft, and could vally her from keel to truck. Don’t seem a bad sort of boy, but he won’t do. Nay, squire, you want somebody as you can trust. A’n’t you got an old friend, ship-owner or ship’s husband—man who’s got his head screwed on the right way, one you knows as honest and won’t take a hundred pounds from t’other side to sell the ship for them?”
“Well, no; I’m afraid I don’t know such a man,” said Uncle Paul.
“Have to find one,” grunted the skipper. “Won’t do to buy a ship with your eyes shut. Got yourself to think of as well as your money. You don’t want to engage a skipper and a crew of good men and true, and drownd them all at sea.”