"He seems to have a sportsmanlike spirit, all right," commented Drew, with a smile.
"He surely has," confirmed the captain. "I think you'll like him when you come to know him."
"How old is he?"
"About your own age I should judge. You're twenty-two, I think I've heard you say? Parmalee is perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four, but not more than that."
"Have you got your full crew shipped yet?" Drew inquired, after a pause.
"Well, some of them are aboard," was the answer. "We've got two dozen in round numbers, but we still need five or six more men before we get our full quota. Ditty's ashore looking them up now."
"Do you think they're going to suit you?"
"Oh, I've seen better crews and I've seen worse," answered the captain. "There are some of them whose faces I don't just like, but that's true in every ship's company. I guess they'll average up all right.
"There's one thing I want to show you," went on the captain, opening the door of a closet built into the cabin.
Drew looked, and was surprised to see as many as a dozen rifles, as well as several revolvers and a sheaf of machetes.