The _Columbia_ lay deep in the water opposite the wharf from which she had loaded, for she was laden with a cargo for China. At the wharf they found a small boat tied up, in charge of a sailor named Hobson, whom Larry Russell knew very well. “Hullo, Larry, what brings you?” demanded Hobson, in surprise; for he had not expected to see the young soldier-sailor. “My friend wishes to see Captain Ponsberry, Hobson. Is he ashore?” “No, I’m waiting for Tom Grandon, the mate. The cap’n is on board.” “Will you take us over?” “Certainly. Jump in.” The two entered the row-boat, and Gilbert was introduced to Hobson, who had been Larry’s messmate for several months. Soon the side of the schooner was gained, and Larry clambered to the deck with the agility of a monkey, leaving Gilbert to follow. “Hullo, Larry! back again?” came from Captain Nat Ponsberry, a whole-souled skipper of the old New England school. “I had hardly expected to see you again afore I sailed.” “My friend here wishes to have a talk with you, captain,” answered Larry. “He is Lieutenant Gilbert Pennington now of the regulars, but formerly of the volunteers. He served with my brother Ben.” “Oh, yes! reckon as how I’ve heard tell of ye,” said Captain Ponsberry, as he extended a horny hand, as hard as it was honest. “Glad to know ye personally.” “Perhaps you’ll think it strange I should come to you for information, captain,” said the young lieutenant. “But Larry tells me you are carrying for the Richmond Importing Company now.” “Exactly.” And the skipper of the _Columbia_ gazed questioningly at the speaker. “But this is my first trip; and I don’t know but that it may be my last, too.” “And may I ask why you say it may be your last?” “You may, since I’ve nothing to conceal on the p’int, lieutenant. Their price ain’t my price, thet’s all. I can make more money on my own hook.” “The reason I have come to you is this: Years ago my father owned stock in the company. He died, and when my mother tried to get a settlement--well, they didn’t give her near as much as she expected.” “I see.” Captain Ponsberry paused. “Well?” “That was when I was only ten years old,--rather a long time ago. I’ve never had a chance to look into the claim, but I intend to do so now; and I want to know how the company stands, if you don’t mind telling me.” “As I said afore, I have nothing to conceal. So far as I know, the standin’ of the concern is good, and it is wuth nigh on to two hundred thousand dollars.” “And who is its head?” “Mr. Ramsey Polk, a banker, who does business in Richmond and in New Orleans.” “He must be the same Polk who took hold at the time my father died. I remember the name well.” “More’n likely, lieutenant; an’, if he is, I’ll allow you have a tough customer to deal with,” added the skipper of the _Columbia_, with a peculiar smile. “Then you found him hard to deal with?” “I did.” “Do you know if there is a Mr. Amos Bartlett still connected with the company?”