“Well, I wonder that I never thought of that before!” Kit exclaimed. “It’s the very best plan that could be made.”
“I think it can be done, if we can strike the right ship,” the Captain continued. “You couldn’t very well do it for yourself, you understand; but what’s the use of having friends if they can’t help you along a little? It’s a different matter if an old shipmaster like myself goes to the firm and says, ‘I know this young man. I recommend him.’ And I take Captain Griffith along, if he is in port, and he says, ‘This man was trained on my ship; he is a good supercargo; I recommend him.’ And Clark goes along and says, ‘This man is my assistant purser on the Trinidad; he understands his business and will take care of your interests; I recommend him.’ You see that makes a pretty strong backing; and if that isn’t enough, I’ll get the Quebec Steamship Company to put in a word too. Just you go home after you get your cargo out and leave me your address, and we’ll attend to the rest for you.”
Kit began to try to thank them both for their good opinion of him; but seeing what was coming they quickly changed the subject.
The photograph had caused many a tear to be shed in the Silburn cottage in Huntington, and there was a fresh flood when Kit reached home. So old the man looked; so wan and worried; so bent and gray! What sufferings must he not have endured if that was indeed a picture of Christopher Silburn!
“Take off the beard,” Kit declared, “trim the long hair, straighten the back, smooth out the wrinkles, and there is father! Of course it is not a certainty, but I feel reasonably sure of it.”
“So do I!” Vieve echoed.
“I pray you may both be right!” was all that Mrs. Silburn could say.
Two days later a neighbor’s boy ran in to say that Kit was wanted at the telephone office in a hurry. He ran up the hill to the post-office, in which was a station of the New York and New England telephone line.
“That you, Silburn?” a familiar voice asked. “Yes, I’m Captain Fraser, in New York. It’s all arranged for you. You’re to take the supercargo’s place on the steamer Brindisi, sailing for Melbourne next Thursday. Come in and report to Hayes, Ward, & Burt’s, 82 South Street, as soon as possible. Got that down? Good luck to you, my boy. Here’s somebody else wants to speak to you.”
“That you, Kit?” It was the familiar and beloved voice of Captain Griffith. “It’s all fixed for you. You’ll be over to the North Cape to say good-by, of course. Remember what I told you long ago about money.”