He hurried Brandon down to the dock, and they were quickly seated in the steamer’s small boat, and the men pulled out to the long, low, odd looking craft, which, since her arrival in the bay three days before, had attracted an enormous amount of attention.
“She sails like a swan, Don,” declared Caleb, who, from openly scoffing at the whaleback, had begun fairly to worship her. “I never see anything beat it. She can outsail any cruiser in the navy, I believe, an’ if we don’t reach the Silver Swan in her first, it’s because somethin’ busts!” with which forcible declaration he helped the boy over the low rail to the iron deck of the steamer.
CHAPTER XXXI
WHEREIN NUMBER THREE APPROACHES THE SUPPOSED VICINITY OF THE SILVER SWAN
“We’ll be off at once,” Caleb Wetherbee declared, as soon as he had stepped upon the deck of the whaleback. “Go up to the cabin, Don, and tell the steward to fix you out with a bath and some clean clothes. You know which stateroom yours is.”
Gladly did Brandon avail himself of this opportunity, and while Caleb was personally seeing to the matter of getting under way, he indulged in the luxury of a bath and a full change of clothing.
Before he was presentable again, Number Three had steam up (the fires had only been banked), and was moving slowly away from Savannah.
“Quick connections on this trip, eh, lad?” Caleb said, rubbing his hands gleefully, as he entered the cabin and found Brandon “clothed and in his right mind” again, as the youth himself expressed it. “Three hours ago you were in the hold of the brig, wasn’t you? Now, let’s hear your yarn.”
Brandon complied with his request, giving fullest details of his incarceration in the hold of the Success.
“That ’ere is a mighty plucky girl,” was Caleb’s admiring comment when the tale was finished. “What d’ye say her name was?”
“Milly Frank; the cap’n is her father, and he owns the brig himself.”