"But I know that bar as well as I knew the rooms in my father's house," protested the Floridian.
"But you are not an authorized pilot," I insisted.
I could not see why he was so strenuous about the matter, unless it was because he thought I distrusted his ability. The steamer was not insured, so that nothing depended upon that matter; but I could not trust a pilot whose ability had not been proved. Cornwood was quite sulky about the matter for some time, and declared that, if he was to be of no use on board he did not care to remain. He had some self-respect, and he could not take his salary if he did not earn it.
When the pilot came on board it proved to be the same one who had taken us over in December. He had a great deal to say about the exciting events of that day; and as he stood at the wheel he asked many questions about the steamer and the man who had attempted to wreck her.
"I took an ice schooner up to Jacksonville about three weeks ago, and I stopped a day in the city," said the pilot. "You see, I live on Fort George Island, and when I go up to the city I always come down again as soon as I can; but this time I stopped over for a day, for I had a chance to bring a vessel down. I went into a saloon on Bay Street, and who should I see behind the bar but the man that ran the other steam-yacht into this one, or tried to do so, and got the boot on t'other leg."
"What, Captain Boomsby?" I asked, astonished at the information.
"Yes, that's the name. I had forgotten what it was; and he hadn't got his sign out then."
"Do you mean to say that he is in business in Jacksonville?" I asked.
"He keeps a saloon there."
"What sort of a saloon?"