“Captain Pratt!”
Yes, that stout, bluff, red-faced, jovial captain stood there before their eyes, evincing as much pleasure at the sight of them, as they did at the sight of him. He wrung their hands heartily all round, laughing all the time, and asking them how they got home, and whether they ran ashore more than a dozen times in doing so.
“I come here,” said he, “arter taters. I got a tater freight to Boston, and I’m goin to fill up right straight off. And it’s right glad I am to see you all again. I thought mebbe I’d see some of you over here, and come here instead of goin to another place where I could have got a better freight.”
The captain was very voluble, very noisy, and very jolly. He made all the boys come on board his vessel, and give an account of their adventures after leaving him. They did so, and he listened with deep attention, varied from time to time by peals of laughter.
“Wal, boys,” said he at last, “I’m a goin right straight off to Boston as soon as I get my cargo in. Ain’t there any of you that wants to go? I’ll take any of you, or all of you. Come now.”
The boys thanked him, but excused themselves, and explained that they couldn’t go very easily, as the school had now begun, and they were all hard at work at their studies.
“Sorry for that,” said Captain Pratt. “I’m too late, I see. Perhaps I’ll have another chance with you. At any rate, I’ll promise you a better vessel than the one you had on your cruise. Of all the old tubs—But where is she now. Has Corbet got a tater freight?”
At this question the boys said nothing, but looked silently and with melancholy glances over the stern to where the form of the Antelope was half visible above the water. Captain Pratt saw their glances.
“What craft’s that there?” he asked.
“That,” said Bart, “is the gallant craft that you just asked about—the one that we had in our cruise—the Antelope.”