The captain was unaffectedly glad to see his young shipmates again, and asked them many questions about themselves. He said that he had prospered exceedingly, and now owned two fishing schooners besides a fast, smart motor craft, all engaged in the fishing industry. He was so eager to unfold the story of his progress that he did not at first notice that neither of the boys looked particularly cheerful.
“What’s in the wind, shipmates?” he demanded. “You look as down-in-the-mouth as a hooked codfish.”
“As bad as all that?” laughed Jack. “Well, Captain, there’s a reason, as the advertisements say.”
“What’s up? Heave ahead and spin your yarn. If it’s anything I can help you out of, trust me to do all I can.”
His manner invited confidence, and, seating themselves beside the sea veteran on an upturned box, Jack poured out the story of their troubles.
“Well, if that don’t beat a novel!” exclaimed the captain when he had finished. “And those two rascals are in Boston, do you think?”
“We don’t know,” rejoined Jack. “We’ve really no way of finding out, and the police are as helpless as we are.”
“Oh, the police are always no more use than a lot of babies,” declared Captain Andrews, who clearly had a contempt for that much-maligned body of men. “I’d back you boys against any detective I ever saw.”
“That’s very good of you,” laughed Tom, “but I’m afraid we’ve proved the kind of detectives that don’t detect.”
“Don’t be downcast, lads,” counselled the captain heartily. “When things seem at the worst, it is generally the time that they begin to mend. I’ll spin you a yarn about that, if you like.”