“Waal, I guess I’ll have to think it over,” remarked Johnson. “I must go on deck now, but you kin remain here as long as you like; in fact I reckon you’d better stay here altogether until I can get a place arranged for you below.” Saying which, he abruptly rose from the table and went on deck.
“Rather an unique specimen of the genus Yankee,” observed Rex, as soon as their host had fairly disappeared. “I hope, captain, you will succeed in persuading him to take us over to the mainland.”
The skipper was apparently plunged deep in thought, for he made no reply.
“Does it not strike you, Bowles, that there is something rather peculiar about the craft, and her crew?” remarked Lance.
“These Yankees are generally a queer lot,” answered the mate nonchalantly; but immediately afterwards he made a sudden and stealthy movement of his fingers to his lips, while the ladies were looking in another direction, throwing at the same time an expression of so much caution and mystery into his glance that Lance made no attempt to continue the conversation.
Shortly afterwards Captain Staunton rose from his seat at the table, and, touching his chief mate lightly on the shoulder, said—
“Come, Bowles, let us go on deck and see if we can make terms with this Captain Johnson. The rest of you had perhaps better follow that gentleman’s advice in the meantime and remain here, since he evidently has some motive for expressing the wish.”
As the two were ascending the companion-ladder the skipper turned and whispered hurriedly to his mate—
“What is your opinion of things in general Bowles?”
“Can’t say yet,” answered that individual. “Looks mighty queer though. She ain’t a man-o’-war, that’s certain.”