"Are you the skipper of this schooner, sir?" asked Appleby.
The man nodded. "That's just what I am—Ned Jordan of Vancouver, British Columbia, though I kind of figure it's me that's conducting this meeting. It was about the picnic you were going to tell me."
Appleby felt reassured, for the man's voice was good-humoured, though he fancied it would not be advisable to trifle with him.
"There wasn't any picnic, sir," he said. "We didn't come out for pleasure."
"No," said Jordan dryly. "I didn't figure there was. Those things you've got on don't look quite like a city lad's outfit. Still, I was wondering if you were going to put it that way."
Appleby flushed a trifle, for he guessed the man's thoughts. "What do you fancy we are?" said he.
Jordan smiled dryly. "It's me that's asking the questions, but I'm quite open to tell you. You're two English lads from the big barque off Port Parry, and I figure you got tired of her."
"We didn't run away from her," said Appleby.
"Well," said Jordan with a trace of grimness, "whether you did or didn't don't count for much with me, but I've no use for crooked talking on board this packet. Better tell me what started you off for Japan, and put it as straight as you can."
Appleby told his story, and Jordan glanced at Niven, who had opened his eyes again. "You would tell it the same way, too?"