"Just my thinking," rolled out at the stern of the Elephant. "I quit the sea on account of 'em—all sorts of steamers. I'm a sailor, I am. I don't want anything to do with steam."
"Fact!" whispered Pete to Sam. "He hates even a railroad. Everything but the old kind of ships."
THE START HOMEWARD FROM THE WRECK.
Captain Pickering did not bring any gun with him. Nothing but a small satchel. He came down over the side of the Goshawk by a rope, and Sam felt a little queer to perceive what an addition the tall, brawny old seaman made to the load to be carried by the Elephant. Hardly had he taken his seat in the middle of the boat before the wind was in her sail and her head was turned landward.
"It's comin' on a calm," said Pickering, "but we may get there first."
"Not across the bay," replied Kroom; "but we may get inside the bar. That was an old trick of the thieves with that spar for a buoy. No use to search their boat, you know. I've known it tried in all sorts of places."
"They reckoned on getting it again alongshore?" asked Pickering.
"Yes," replied Kroom; "but they didn't reckon on the tide through the inlet. Our bay-men pick up stuff all the while that came in that way. It's all right. Dry as a bone."
"Of course it is," said Pickering. "I say, boy, if that suit fits you, keep it. You and he can have some of the tackle."