Chapter 17
"Dunno as I don't," he roared. "What do you say to a horange boat?"
"Orange boat?" cried Rodd. "Why, uncle's been thinking of one of those!"
"Well, why not?" said the captain; "a Saltcomber?"
"Yes," cried Rodd.
"Well-built, fast, plenty of room below for cargo or what not, plenty of provisions and water, but no guns."
"That's just the sort of vessel I want," cried Uncle Paul. "Do you think one's to be had over there?"
"Sure on it. See one last week as they was just getting up her standing rigging."
"What, a new one?" cried Rodd.
"Ay. Fresh launched, and being made ready for sea."
"Capital!" cried Uncle Pad. "Who does she belong to?"
"s.h.i.+p-builder as yet."
"And what would be her price?"
"Dunno. All depends," grunted the captain. "Most likely as much as the builder could get; but if a man went with the money in his pocket, or say in the bank, ready to pay down on the nail, he could get a smart craft that would do him justice at a fair working price. What do you say to coming over and having a look at her?"
"Yes. How are we to get there? By coach?"
"Tchah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the skipper. "Who's going in a coach when he can be run over in one of our luggers? You say the word, and I have got a friend with a little fore-and-after as only wants him and a hand and mebbe me to give a pull at a sheet. He'd run you over in no time."
"By all means, then, let's go," said Uncle Paul, to Rodd's great satisfaction.
"Well, yes," growled the skipper. "But who's a-going with you?"
"My nephew," said Uncle Paul.
"Ah, yes; and I suppose he's a good judge of such a craft, and could vally her from keel to truck. Don't seem a bad sort of boy, but he won't do. Nay, squire, you want somebody as you can trust. A'n't you got an old friend, s.h.i.+p-owner or s.h.i.+p's husband--man who's got his head screwed on the right way, one you knows as
"Well, no; I'm afraid I don't know such a man," said Uncle Paul.
"Have to find one," grunted the skipper. "Won't do to buy a s.h.i.+p with your eyes shut. Got yourself to think of as well as your money. You don't want to engage a skipper and a crew of good men and true, and drownd them all at sea."
"Well, no," said Uncle Paul dryly; "our ambitions don't lie in that direction, do they, Rodd?"
"No, uncle, but no man would be such a wretch as to sell you a s.h.i.+p that wasn't safe."
"Not unless he got the chanst," said the skipper, frowning. "I know some on them, and what they have done, and I don't want to command a craft like that. Been at sea too long."
"Well, then," said Uncle Paul, "you must have had great experience, and could judge whether a schooner's good or not."
"Dessay I could," said the skipper, "but I aren't perfect."
"But you ought to be a good judge," said Uncle Paul.
"Mebbe, but I wouldn't go by my own opinion if it was my trade instead of yourn."
"But look here," cried Uncle Paul, "I should like you to see the vessel and act for me."
"Tchah! Not likely, squire. What do you know about me?"
"Well, not much, certainly," said Uncle Paul, "and I should want a character with you as to your being a good seaman."
"Of course; and if you didn't like me, and I warn't up to my work, why, you could get rid of me. But that's a very different thing to buying a s.h.i.+p."
"Yes," said Uncle Paul, "but what about the s.h.i.+p-builder? Is he an honest man?"
"Oh yes, I think so."
"Couldn't he give good references?"
"Well, yes. Old established; built a lot of craft. Dessay he'd find a few to say a word for him."
"And I suppose I could have the opinion of some well-known s.h.i.+p valuer?"
"Yes," grunted the skipper, "but he's only in trade. You want to know what some old sailor says."
"Such as you," cried Rodd.
The skipper looked at the boy and smiled.
"Well, mebbe," he said, "but I don't want the job."
"Well, we'll talk about that another time," said Uncle Paul. "What I want is for you to help me by going over with us to have a look at the schooner."
"Ah!" said the skipper.
"And you may as well give me a reference or two to somebody who knows your abilities--somebody well-known in Plymouth, a s.h.i.+p-owner, somebody for whom you have sailed. Will you do this?"
"Ay," said the skipper.
"Well, whose name will you give me? To whom shall I apply?"
"Anybody. Everybody in Plymouth."
"That's rather wide," said Uncle Paul.
"Wider the better," said the skipper. "You ask the lot what they thinks of Captain Chubb."
As he spoke the skipper rose and put on his cap, but took it off again quickly.