"Well, now that we've got down to brass tacks as you say, Tyke, let's get along to the next point," said the captain briskly. "I don't suppose you could come along with me?"
"You don't!" snorted Tyke. "Well then, you're due for another guess. You bet your binoculars I'm coming along. I'd like to see anything that would stop me!"
Drew's heart sank. If Tyke were going, that would mean that he would have to stay behind to look after the interests of the chandlery shop.
"But your business?" objected the captain.
"Business be hanged!" roared Tyke. "It can go to Davy Jones, for all I care. Anyway, I can leave it in good hands. But I'm going to have one more sight of blue water before I turn up my toes for good, no matter what happens. An' I'm going to take Allen along with me!"
Drew was struck dumb for the moment and could only stare at the excited old man.
"Yes!" repeated Tyke, "he's going to have his fling along with the rest of us. We ought to be back in a couple of months, if we have any kind of luck. Winters is a bright boy, and he can keep things going for a while."
"That'll be fine," said the captain with enthusiasm. "I'd like nothing better than to have the two of you for messmates."
"But say!" broke in Tyke, as a thought suddenly occurred to him, "what about that feller—Parmalee—who has a third int'rest in your craft? Of course, he'll want to know, an' he'll have a right to know, why you don't take this Galveston cargo an' why you're going on this cruise of ours. How are you going to git around that?"
"That is something of a problem," the captain replied slowly, "and especially as he thought of going with me to Galveston for the sake of his health. He's lame and delicate, and the doctor told him that a sea voyage was just what he needed to build him up.