"I am mos' agreeable," returned Captain Pons. "Presently, my captain," he went on, to Sandoval, "I go aboard ze Pom wiz ze crew you gif me, an' we take ze boat to Valparaiso. Is it not so?"
"Yes, my captain," replied Sandoval. "I will lend you the crew and will convoy you to Valparaiso."
"You are mos' kind."
This was enough for Matt. He excused himself, shook hands with Sandoval, and hurried away.
As soon as he was safely in the periscope room of the Grampus, he threw himself down on the locker and laughed until he was sore.
"Get me the rest of my clothes, somebody," said he, "and then start the Grampus northward again."
"Where's our next port of call, old ship?" queried Dick, while Matt was getting into the garments he had taken off just before swimming ashore in the cove.
"Callao," answered Matt. "Then Panama, Acapulco, San Diego—and Frisco."
"Dot lisdens like home!" rumbled Carl.