Then he unfolded the note from Genevieve.
Dear Kit [she wrote]: This is the first note I ever wrote without mother’s seeing it, but I do not want her to see this, because I am going to write to you about father, and that always troubles her.
I want you always, when you are travelling about the world, to keep your ears open for news of the Flower City or some of her boats. It may be foolish, but I never can believe that we shall not see him any more. You know how many people have been shipwrecked and then come home again years afterwards. You’ll do this, won’t you?
Dear old Turk is trying to write to you. He heard me say that I was going to write, so he sits here beside me, putting up first one paw and then the other. I am sure he would write if he could. With love,
Vieve.
He was about to read the letters over again, when the Captain’s bell rang. All the doors and port-holes were left open now, for the heat was intense even after dark, and he went into the Captain’s room without knocking.
“Shut the door, my boy,” the Captain said; “I have something to say to you;” and as Kit obeyed, he could not help wondering whether he had done anything that he was to be scolded for. But the Captain’s first words relieved his mind.
“I am going to put you at a job to-morrow that will require all your brains,” he said. “The lighters will be here in the morning after cargo, and I am going to send you ashore to make a list of every package landed. I have to keep a sharp eye on these boatmen, or they rob me. Everything will be checked off as it leaves the ship, and you will keep a list on shore, and the goods go into the hands of our agent in Sisal immediately, and he receipts for them.
“Now I want you to understand,” he continued, “that this is very important work. I have never trusted such work to a cabin boy before. If you miss a package, it may cost me a great many dollars. But I see you have some brains, and I want you to use them, and do the work carefully.”
“Thank you, sir,” Kit answered. “I will certainly do my best.”
Kit returned to the cabin, with a little flush on his face. He had seen for some days that his position on the ship was much better than when he started, but he had not dreamed of such an important commission as this. It would give him a great amount of extra work to do, but what of that? He was not afraid of work. Nearly any one in the crew would jump at the chance to go ashore and do what he was to do. Copying the manifests had given him extra work, but it had paid many times over by giving the Captain a good opinion of him.
Immediately after breakfast next morning the gig was lowered again, and the Captain was rowed ashore by two of the men, with Kit sitting in the stern by his side. Kit knew how some of the crew were wondering to see him going off in this style, but he had no chance to speak to them. On the way they passed three of the lighters going out—open boats about thirty feet long, very strongly built, with a single mast, each with a large crew of half-clad Mexicans ready for work.
The Captain waited till the first of the lighters arrived with its load, and showed Kit where he was to stand on the mole, as the Mexicans call the wharf, and how he was to keep his list. Then he returned to the ship, and the cabin boy was left to his own resources.