The other nodded.
“For a full forty year,” he said. “Man and boy I’ve spliced, knotted, hauled and reefed in every kind of craft that’s sailed from here to the Horn, and from there to the China Seas.”
“A tarry, healthy profession,” commented Scarlett. “I have known many shipmen in my day, and they have been mostly sound fellows and honest.”
The man took off his nightcap and scratched his head.
“As to health,” said he, “I agree with you. But there have been as big rascals walked the decks of ships as any they’ve ever bred ashore. I remember when I sailed my last voyage in the ‘Champion,’ we had a skipper that was as great a villain as ever robbed his employers.”
At the mention of the vessel’s name, Ezra became more attentive.
“The ‘Champion’?” said he. “What owners?”
“Prentiss & Son, Boston.”
Scarlett gave Ezra a quick look. The boy regarded the innkeeper with interest.
“I recall the old ‘Champion’ very well. Her timbers are now rotting on a reef in the South Pacific,” said he.