“I’m glad to have met you, Mr. Steele,” said Lieutenant Allerton, “and to have seen your famous boat, the Seagull. We’ve heard a good deal of your curious adventures, you know.”
I laughed, and Uncle Naboth Perkins, who stood beside me, remarked:
“Our days of adventure are about over, I guess, Mr. Allerton.”
“Have you bagged so much treasure you are ready to retire?” asked the officer.
“It isn’t that,” replied my uncle. “We’ve been tramps a long time, an’ sailed in many seas; but the life’s a bit too strenuous for us, so’s to speak. These boys o’ ours are reckless enough to git us inter a heap o’ trouble, an’ keep us there, too, if we didn’t call a halt. So, seein’ as life counts for more’n anything else, Cap’n Steele an’ I hev made the youngsters turn over a new leaf. We’re now on our way to the Atlantic, ’round the Horn, an’ perpose to do peaceful tradin’ from now on.”
Allerton listened with thoughtful interest. He seemed on the point of saying something in return, but hesitated and then touched his cap.
“I must be going, gentlemen. You know how grateful we exiles are for the mail and tinned stuff, and I tender the thanks of the fleet for your courtesy.”
Then he went away and we considered the incident closed.
We were a strangely assorted group as we congregated on the deck of our beautiful craft the Seagull, after dinner that evening, and perhaps here is an excellent opportunity to introduce ourselves to the reader.
Our ship, which we believe has been termed “the pride of the merchant marine,” was constructed under our personal supervision, and sails or steams as we desire. It is about a thousand-tons burden, yacht built, and as trim as a man-o’-war. It is commanded by my father, Captain Richard Steele, one of the most experienced and capable sailors of his time. He is one-third owner, and I have the same interest, being proud to state that I furnished my share of the money from funds I had personally earned. Uncle Naboth Perkins, my dead mother’s only brother, owns the remaining third.