When Ralph explained that this was his first sight of salt water, and
that he had seen the captain for the first time that morning, the pilot
shook his grizzled head doubtfully.

"Captain Gary is a deep one, that's what he is. He was mighty milk and
watery, wasn't he? I thought so. Know where you're bound for?"

Ralph had not the least idea, but felt no uneasiness, as the captain
was so kind; had treated him almost like a son.

"Did eh! Well, now see here. It's none of my business, but I believe
in a fair shake." The pilot glanced round and noticing the boatswain
sauntering toward them, he bent forward and concluded in an undertone:
"When you get aboard and out to sea, you keep your eyes open and watch
out for squalls. D'ye hear. Watch out for squalls."

The boy heard but did not understand. The pilot's manner, however,
impressed him as unusual. He felt vaguely uncomfortable, as the old
man, after a knowing wink or two, fixed his eyes upon the course he was
steering, and thereafter ignored Ralph's presence entirely.

Bludson cast a searching glance at them both, then ordered Ralph to go
below and bring up his coat. The lad obeyed and when he returned, the
tug had forged past an island headland, disclosing to them a fine view
of the open ocean.

Ralph uttered an exclamation of wonder, and for five minutes or more he
leaned against the guard rail, feasting his eyes on the heaving expanse
of blue, foam dotted water near the inlet, where the rollers were
breaking upon the bar.