"If you will give me their address, I'll look them up to-night."
"Bless my stars and buttons, I'll go along with you and make my own mind easy," announced Mr. Becket. "I won't sleep sound unless I know how they're fixed. I'm so used to thinkin' of Cap'n John as fit and ready to ride out any weather, that I don't realize he's so broke up and helpless. And I've got to go to sea before long."
The twisted streets of old Greenwich village in down-town New York proved to be a puzzle to this pair of nautical explorers, partly because Mr. Becket had so much confidence in his ability to steer a straight course to Captain Bracewell's new quarters that he positively refused to ask his bearings of policemen or wayfarers. After they had lost themselves several times, the red-headed pilot of the expedition announced with an air of certainty:
"It's here or hereabouts. I saw the name of the street on a corner sign three or four years ago, and my memory is a wonder."
This was more cheering than definite, and David meekly suggested that he inquire at the next corner store.
"Do you think I'm scuppered yet?" snorted Mr. Becket. "Not a bit of it. Bear off to starboard at the next turn."
But once again they fetched up all standing, and Mr. Becket was obliged to confess as he meditated with hands in his pockets:
"They've gone and moved the street. That's what they've done. It's a trick they have in New York."
"You wait here and I'll go back to the cigar store around the last corner," volunteered David.