“But, Uncle, it wasn’t Aladdin that the Forty——”

“Never mind that. Got a spare bunk aboard, Sam?”

I laughed; but there was no use in being surprised at anything Uncle Naboth did.

“I’ve got a whole empty cabin—second mate’s.”

“All right. When do we sail?”

“Three o’clock, Uncle Naboth—sharp.”

“Very good.”

He turned and ambled away toward the town, and, rather thoughtfully, I entered my boat and was rowed out to the Gladys H.


CHAPTER III
THE MOIT CONVERTIBLE AUTOMOBILE