“That!” exclaimed the middy, as he beheld a lad not as old as himself, rigged up in a dandy style.
“Yes, that, and he’s more of a sailor to-day than half your men-o’-war trained jim-cranks,” and turning to Mark, the old skipper continued:
“Capting Merrill, this is a young gent from the big gun craft yonder who sprung his catechism on me until I got weary, so I tarns him over to you.”
“How can I serve you, sir?” asked Mark, with extreme politeness.
“Do you own this schooner, sir?” asked the middy, somewhat amazed at finding so youthful a skipper.
“I may say that I do, sir.”
“You are her captain?”
“At present, yes, sir, Mark Merrill, at your service; but I expect to relinquish my vessel to good Captain Crane here within an hour or so.”
“May I ask why you sought an anchorage here in the Naval Academy harborage?”
“I am a stranger, sir, in this port, but came under orders to report as a cadet midshipman, so ran my vessel here to anchor. I trust I have broken no law, sir?”