"Now, how long have we been?" asked Mr. Jones, taking out his watch. "Just three hours."
"But we spent half an hour of it in fishing," suggested the skipper.
"Exactly so, and we have made the run in two hours and a half."
Monkey was called on deck, the jib taken in, and the Skylark ran alongside a wharf, where she was secured. It was agreed to sail for Camden on the return at six o'clock, and the passengers left the yacht to explore the town. The skipper washed and "slicked up" as well as he could. Putting on his bobtail coat, he went ashore, to call upon Colonel Montague. After some inquiry he found the house; and it was easily identified, for it was the finest one in the city. The visitor found the owner of the Penobscot smoking his cigar under the shade of a tree, where rustic chairs had been placed. He was alone, and gave the young skipper a hearty greeting.
"I'm glad to see you, Captain Bobtail," said he, warmly, shaking the hand of the boy. "I did not expect a visit from you quite so soon, but I'm none the less glad to see you."
"I brought a couple of gentlemen up in the Skylark, and thought I would call upon you while they were looking over the place."
"I'm glad you did. Grace and Mrs. Montague will be very glad to see you. I will call them."
"Not yet, if you please, sir. I want to tell you what a scrape I got into first; and then I don't know that you will want them to see me," replied Bobtail, blushing.
"A scrape?"
"Yes, sir."