“How much money did you raise, Eugene?” asked the young commander, turning to his brother.
“Thirty dollars. And that’s every cent there is on board the yacht.”
“About twenty-five dollars worth,” shouted Walter.
“What sort?”
“Every sort—beef, pork, coffee, sugar, biscuit, and some fresh vegetables, if you have them. I haven’t a mouthful on board.”
After a short time spent in conversation with a man who stood at his side, during which he was doubtless expressing his astonishment that the commander of any craft should be foolish enough to venture so far from land without a mouthful of provisions for himself and crew, the captain of the schooner called out:
“All right. I reckon I shall have to take them aboard of you?”
“Yes, sir. I have no small boat to send after them.”
The captain walked away from the rail, and the young yachtsmen, overjoyed at their success, began to express their appreciation of his kindness in no measured terms. It wasn’t every shipmaster who would have sold them the provisions, and not one in a hundred who would have sent his own boat to bring them aboard.