well,
Bill!" after the departing gig. The hail was answered by the voice of
the Jamaican, Curley. Half an hour later the boat returned, carrying
only three. Jeremy, straining at his tether, made out that Curley was
not one of them. He sat down, thoughtful. "Well, Bob," he said at last,
"whether it's about your ransom I can't say, but Bill Curley's been sent
ashore on some errand or other--and to be gone a while, too, I figure."

They could do little but wait for developments. It was something of a
surprise to both when Bonnet's voice was heard on the deck above, soon
after, ordering the capstan manned. The anchor creaked up and to the
rattle of blocks the sail was hoisted. They felt the sloop get under way
once more. When one of the foremast hands brought them some biscuit and
pork for supper, he told them it was Herriot's orders that they be left
in irons for the present at least, and added, in response to Jeremy's
query, that they were headed south under full canvas. The boys' thoughts
were very bitter as they tried to make themselves comfortable on the
bare planking. Fortunately, at their age it requires more than a hard
bed to banish rest, and before the ship had made three sea-miles, care
and bodily misery alike were forgotten in the heavy slumber of fatigue.

CHAPTER XV

Job Howland's long legs, clad as they were in nothing more cumbersome
than a pair of under-breeches, made light work of hills and ravines as
he held his way steadily up the Delaware shore. Like most of the sailors
of that day, he had gone barefoot aboard ship since the beginning of the
warm weather and his soles were so calloused that he hardly felt the
need of shoes.

At a shack on a little cove, just before midday, he found several
fishermen, to whom he applied for clothing. They had pity on his plight,
fitted him out with a shirt, serviceable breeches and rough boots, and
gave him, as well, as much biscuit and dried fish as he wished to carry.
Thus reinforced he continued to put the leagues behind him till night,
when he slept under a convenient jack-pine. Early next morning he pushed
on and came without further adventure to the little port of New Castle,
just as the sun was setting.

Job had been in the town before and now went straight to the Red Hawk
Tavern, a small place on the water-front that catered chiefly to
seafaring men. The tavern-keeper, a brawny Swede, to whose blue eyes
half the seamen that plied along the coast wer