"I seed a schooner down at the harbor," observed Captain Westfield, carelessly. "She was a pretty looking little craft and her name just seemed to fit her—'The Beauty'. If she's good an' sound an' for sale, I might be willing to give a thousand dollars for her."
Mr. Williams laughed, "You are not the first sailor who has fallen in love with the 'Beauty'. She is the finest ever. She has led the sponging fleet for three seasons. Many have tried to buy her but couldn't. You are in luck, however. Her owner died last week and I have just received a letter from his widow asking me to find a purchaser for her. You can have her as she lays for thirteen hundred dollars, and she is dirt cheap at that."
"Will you hold that offer open until ten o'clock to-night?" asked the captain, "we will want to talk it all over a bit."
Mr. Williams agreed to his request, and, after thanking him gratefully for his information, the little party took their departure.
"Back to the harbor," said the captain as soon as they were out of hearing. "I want to take a good look at the 'Beauty'. If she is anyway near as good as she looks from a distance she's worth at least twenty-five hundred dollars. Why we could make a tidy sum by buying her, sailing her around to Jacksonville, and selling her again."
They soon arrived at the harbor again where for a quarter they hired a young Greek to row them out to the schooner.
They found the little vessel all that her name implied. She was about sixty-five feet long and broad for her length. She looked more like a gentleman's yacht than a sponging vessel and they were all delighted with her appearance. But pleased as they were with her on deck, they were even more pleased with her below. There, they found a large main cabin with swinging lamps, hanging sideboard, easy chairs, and comfortable furnishings. Opening into the main cabin were found roomy staterooms, two on a side, furnished with large bunks containing springy mattresses. Instead of the small portholes, common with crafts of her size, each stateroom was provided with windows of heavy glass to admit air and light.
Up forward at the foremast was the forecastle, or crew's quarters. It was large, comfortable and well equipped with bunks. Aft of it was the cook's galley, containing a good stove and plenty of pots, pans and kettles. Everything was exquisitely neat and clean. But Captain Westfield was not content with a mere survey of cabin and furnishings. He unfurled several of the sails and examined the canvas closely. He tested the strength of rope after rope. He climbed aloft and looked over blocks, stays, and running gear. Lastly, he descended into the hold and examined all that was visible of the vessel's ribs and planking.
"She's as tidy a little craft as I ever saw," he declared, when he at last rejoined the boys back by the wheel. "She ain't over six years old an' her sails an' rigging are all new. She's worth twenty-five hundred dollars of any man's money if she's worth a cent. All we have got to do it to buy her and carry her around to some lively port an' we can make twelve hundred dollars as easy as finding it."