The following morning saw them down at the Point with the equipage and other paraphernalia. The men, whom they had brought from Annapolis for the purpose, pitched the tents under the trees, ditched them, received their pay, climbed into the wagons and rumbled away to town—puzzled that anyone should want to camp on Greenberry Point when they had the price of a hotel, and three square meals a day.
“It looks pretty good,” said Croyden, when the canvases were up and everything arranged—“and we shan’t lack for the beautiful in nature. This is about the prettiest spot I’ve ever seen, the Chesapeake and the broad river—the old town and the Academy buildings—the warships at anchor—the tout ensemble! We may not find the treasure, but, at least, we’ve got a fine camp—though, I reckon, it is a bit breezy when the wind is from the Bay.”
“I wonder if we should have paid our respects to the Superintendent before poaching on his preserves?” said Macloud.
“Hum—hadn’t thought of that!” Croyden answered. “Better go in and show ourselves to him, this afternoon. He seems to be something 152 of a personage down here, and we don’t want to offend him. These naval officers, I’m told, are sticklers for dignity and the prerogatives due their rank.”
“Hold on!” exclaimed Macloud. “On that score, we’ve got some rank ourselves to uphold.”
“What!” said Croyden.
“Certainly! the Chairman of the Committee on Naval Affairs, of the United States Senate, is with us. According to the regulations, is it his duty to call first on the Superintendent?—that’s the point.”
“Give it up!” laughed Croyden. “However, the Superintendent has a copy of the letter, and he will know the ropes. We will wait a day, then, if he’s quiescent, it’s up to us.”
“Great head!” laughed Macloud. “You should have been a diplomat, Croyden—nothing less than an Ambassadorship for you, my boy!”
Croyden smiled.