"As to your getting home, of course you will allow me to provide for that—nothing else would be fair, and it will perhaps in some measure make amends for what you have had to endure."
So the upshot of it was, that when the captain and Terry bade good-bye to their new-found friend, the former had sufficient funds to pay all expenses of the homeward journey, and with light hearts they made their way to the station.
Once more in the train, and speeding towards Boston, they lolled about on the cushion of the car in great good-humour.
"Well, Terry, my son," said the captain, bestowing upon him a look of mingled affection and admiration, "you do have the greatest luck of any fellow I ever saw. I give you credit for the whole of it, seein' that I've never had much of it myself. No matter what sort of a scrape we get into, out we come again smiling, and not a bit the worse. If your luck holds, you'll be a great man some day, Terry, and no mistake."
Terry laughed, and curled up still more comfortably on the crimson cushion.
"Faith, you make me proud, captain," he responded. "But where do you come in yourself? Sure, it 'ud be no easy job to say where I'd be this very minute if you'd not looked after me."
Much pleased in his turn, Captain Afleck leaned over and twitched Terry's ear in a not ungentle fashion.
"I guess you can take pretty good care of yourself, my hearty," said he. "Some fine day you'll be one of the bosses at Long Wharf, wearing a big gold chain, and fine black suit, and a tall shiny hat, while, if I'm alive, I'll be nothing better than I am now, glad if I can knock out a living with my schooner—if I ever get another one."
"No you won't, captain," cried Terry, springing up with eyes shining with emotion; "nothing of the kind. If ever I do get to be one of the bosses, you shall be captain of the best ship the firm owns, and go round the world in her, if you like."
Captain Afleck gave the boy a tender smile as he took hold of his hand.