The tug had got near enough to enable the proportions of the vessel to
be seen quite distinctly.

Even to Ralph she was a graceful and pleasing sight. The long, low,
black hull exhibited curves as perfect as the flowing sweep of a
rainbow. The tall mast, the tapering tracery of spars, the snowy
canvas and the general trim and orderly air maintained, were all
attractive to the eye.

In a brief time, the tug was lying alongside and the stores transferred
to the schooner's hold in short order. A dozen or more catlike sailors
assisted the crew of the tug, and Ralph made himself useful.

When the tug sheered off, the boy leaning over the side of the
schooner, beheld the pilot shake his head in a doubtful way as he
answered Ralph's farewell wave of the hand.

"So I must look out for squalls, must I?" he reflected. "I wonder what
the man meant. Never mind. I am young, stout, and I'm not afraid. So
I guess I won't worry. So nice a man as Captain Gary won't see a boy
put upon, I know."

A heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"Come now! We don't want no idlin' or staring over the side on this
craft. Come along and stow your kit and sling your hammock. Then
we'll eat a bite--you and me."

Thus roused, he followed Tom Bludson into the forecastle, where a low
but roomy apartment was lighted both by a swinging lamp and the