“We never drew up any papers. Cap’n Steele knew as he could trust me, an’ so papers wa’n’t necessary. He owned one-third interest in the ‘Flipper’, an’ supplied one half the money to carry on the trade. That made it mighty hard to figure out the profits, so we gen’ly lumped it, to save brain-work. Of course your father’s been paid all his earnin’s after each voyage was over, so accounts is settled up to the Japan trip. Probably the money I gave him was in the sea-chest, an’ that old she-pirate up to the house grabbed it with the other things. The Japan voyage was a failure, as I told you; but there’s about a thousand dollars still comin’ to the Cap’n—which means it’s comin’ to you, Sam—an’ the ship’s worth a good ten thousand besides.”
I tried to think what that meant to me.
“It isn’t a very big sum of money, is it, Uncle?” I asked, diffidently.
“That depends on how you look at it,” he answered. “Big oaks from little acorns grow, you know. If you leave the matter to me, I’ll try to make that thousand sprout considerable, before you come of age.”
“Of course I’ll leave it to you,” said I. “And I am very grateful for your kindness, sir.”
“Don’t you turn your gratitude loose too soon, Sam. I may land your fortunes high an’ dry on the rocks, afore I’ve got through with ’em. But if I do it won’t be on purpose, an’ we’ll sink or swim together. An’ now, that bein’ as good as settled, the next thing to argy is what you’re a-goin’ to do while I’m sailin’ the seas an’ makin’ money for you.”
“What would you suggest?” I asked.
“Well, some folks might think you ought to have more schoolin’. How old are you?”
“Sixteen, sir.”
“Can you read an’ write, an’ do figgers?”