"The crew is an important matter," reflected Tyke. "It won't do to pick up any riffraff that may come to hand. We want to git men that we can trust. Sailors have a way of smelling out the meaning of any cruise that is out of the usual order of things, an' if there's any trouble-makers in the crew who git a hint that we're out for treasure, they'll cause mischief." "They won't get any hint, unless some of us talk in our sleep," replied the captain. "I know where I can lay hands on quite a few of my old crew, but I'll be so busy with other things that I'll have to leave the picking of most of the men to Ditty." "Ditty?" said Grimshaw inquiringly. "He's my mate," explained the captain. "Cal Ditty. As smart a sailor as one could ask for. But that about lets him out." "Why! don't you like him?" asked Tyke quickly. "No, I can't say I do," replied the captain slowly. "I've never warmed toward the man. There's something about him that repels me." "Why don't you git rid of him then?" "Well, you see it's like this," explained Captain Hamilton. "He saved Mr. Parmalee's life one time when the old man fell overboard, and naturally Parmalee felt very grateful to him. He promised him that he should always have a berth on one of his ships as long as he lived. Of course, since the old man is dead, we could do as we liked about firing Ditty, but young Parmalee feels that it's up to him to respect his father's wishes. So rather than have any trouble about it, I've kept Ditty on. But he's a lush when he's ashore, and I don't fully trust him. That may be unjust too, for he's always done his work well and I've had no reason to complain." "Well, anyway," warned Tyke, "I'd keep my weather eye peeled if I was you. When you feel that way about a man, there's usually something to justify it sooner or later." "Well, now, suppose I'm ready in a fortnight, how about you?" asked Captain Hamilton. "Oh, we'll be ready by that time," replied Tyke confidently. "Of course we've got this moving to do, but we're pretty well packed up now, an' before a week is over we'll have everything shipshape in our new quarters." "We'll race each other to see who'll be ready first," laughed Captain Hamilton. "In the meantime, if you're not too rushed, come over and take a squint at the _Bertha Hamilton_. And if you don't see the niftiest little craft that ever gladdened the eyes of a sailorman, you can call me a swab." "Where is she lying?" asked Drew. "Foot of Franklin Street, North River. You'll find me there most all the time, but if you don't just go aboard and look her over anyway. You'll be on her for some weeks, and you might as well get acquainted." Tyke and Drew promised that they would, and, with a cordial handshake, Captain Hamilton left the office. Grimshaw carefully stowed the map and paper away in his safe, and then turned to Drew.