We now drew alongside, and climbed upon the deck, where my uncle was greeted by a tall, lank man who appeared to my curious eyes to be a good example of a living skeleton. His clothes covered his bones like bags, and so thin and drawn was his face that his expression was one of constant pain. “Morn’n’, Cap’n,” said Uncle Naboth, although it was afternoon. “Morn’n’, Mr. Perkins,” returned the other, in a sad voice. “Glad to see you back.” “Here’s my nevvy, Sam Steele, whose father were part owner but got lost in a storm awhile ago.” “Glad to see you, sir,” said the Captain, giving my hand a melancholy shake. “An’ here’s Ned Britton, who once sailed with Cap’n Steele,” continued my uncle. “He’ll sign with us, Cap’n Gay, and I guess you’ll find him A No. 1.” “Glad to see you, Britton,” repeated the Captain, in his dismal voice. If the lanky Captain was as glad to see us all as his words indicated, his expression fully contradicted the fact. Britton saluted and walked aft, where I noticed several sailors squatting upon the deck in careless attitudes. To my glance these seemed as solemn and joyless as their Captain; but I acknowledge that on this first visit everything about the ship was a disappointment to me, perhaps because I had had little experience with trading vessels and my mind was stored with recollections of the trim “Saracen.” Below, however, was a comfortable cabin, well fitted up, and Uncle Naboth showed me a berth next to his own private room which was to be my future home. The place was little more than a closet, but I decided it would do very well. “I thought _you_ were the captain of the ‘Flipper,’ Uncle Naboth,” said I, when we were alone. “No; I’m jest super-cargo,” he replied, with his usual wink. “You see, I wasn’t eddicated as a sailor, Sam, an’ never cared to learn the trade. Cap’n Gay is one o’ the best seamen that ever laid a course, so I hire him to take the ship wherever I want to go. As fer the cargo, that’s my ’special look-out, an’ it keeps me busy enough, I can tell you. I’m a nat’ral born trader, and except fer that blamed Japan trip, I ain’t much ashamed of my record.” “Will you go to Australia again?” I asked. “Not jest now, Sam. My next venture’s goin’ to be a bit irregular—what you might call speculative, an’ extry-hazardous. But we’ll talk that over tonight, after supper.” After making a cursory examination of the ship Uncle Naboth received the Captain’s report of what had transpired in his absence, and then we rowed back to town again. We strolled through the city streets for an hour, had supper, and then my uncle took me to his room, carefully closed and locked the door, and announced that he was ready to “talk business.”