"What is your usual time between New York and San Francisco?" asked
Curtis, addressing the mate.

"From four to six months. Four months is very short, six months very
long. We ought to get there in five months, or perhaps a little
sooner, with average weather."

"Very well. I believe there is no more to be said. Good-night!"

"Good-night, sir."

"So he is well out of the way for five months!" soliloquized Curtis.
"In five months much may happen. Before that time I hope to be in
possession of my uncle's property. Then I can snap my fingers at
fate."




Chapter XXI.
A Seasick Passenger.


The good ship _Columbia_ had got fifty miles under way before Dodger
opened his eyes.

He looked about him languidly at first, but this feeling was succeeded
by the wildest amazement, as his eyes took in his unusual
surroundings.