“Then,” said he, “I will order service in the salon.” He seemed relieved and went to consult his servant.
Meantime young Alfonso looked at us curiously.
“You do not own the Seagull, I suppose,” he remarked.
“Why not?” I asked with a smile.
“It’s a fine ship. I’ve been over to look at it this afternoon—”
“Oh; you have!”
“Yes. They would not let me go aboard, but I saw all I wished to. It is swift and trim—what is called ‘yacht built.’ It can sail or go by steam. Your crew looks like a good one.”
“That is all true, sir,” I agreed, amused at his observations.
“And you young fellows own it?”
“I don’t,” said Joe. “I’m second mate, that’s all. But Mr. Steele here is one-third owner, with his father and uncle owning the other two-thirds.”