"Why, I thought he said it was a sailing sloop," mused the Captain, turning to the deputy.
"So did I."
"No; the boy told me distinctly," the Chief replied, "that it was a much larger vessel, and that she passed him in the outer channel; though candidly, as to her carrying no light, we must remember that boys sometimes have wonderful imaginations."
"Then we'll keep the main channel;" and the Captain left the room.
Down among the ships in the harbor a small boat was moored. It had all the unmistakable signs of being a fishing-boat, and a youth with a large round face of a heavy brown mahogany color was sitting lazily at the edge of the wharf, when Thomas Walton made his appearance. They both got into the boat and pushed from the dock. It was growing quite dusk. The harbor lights were already lit.
"You told them, Tom?"
"What did they think?"
"I hardly know. I wish now I hadn't gone near them at all."
"Didn't they treat you
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