heard the clank of the
anchor chains.

"One minute! Just one minute!" shouted up Mr. Adams, standing and
waving his letter. "I have a note for Captain Flowers."

"Come aboard with it quick, then. But you can't stay," ordered the man
above. And up the stairs hastened Mr. Adams.

The captain snatched the letter without ceremony (and as if he was very
cross), opened it and read it. Watching anxiously, as the canoes rose
and fell on the waves at the foot of the stairs, Charley could hear
most of the conversation. The captain spoke loudly and decisively.

"Where'd you leave Crosby?"

"Back at Pena Blanca."

"I'd given him up. His places are taken. But I'll do the best I can
for you. How many in your party? Who is your extra man?"

"A young fellow I'm trying to help along."

"Does Crosby know of him?"

"No, sir, he does not," truthfully answered Mr. Adams.

"Well, you can come aboard, you and your two, but he can't. I'll do
that much for Captain Crosby. More I cannot do, and I positively
won't. I'm stretching a point now. We're overloaded already. Hustle
your baggage in; the anchor's afloat and you've no time to lose."

"Come on, Charley, you and Grigsby," called Mr. Adams.

"Bear a hand with that baggage," bellowed the captain; and several
sailors sprang to the head of the stairs.

Mr. Adams ran rapidly down again, passing Charley, who scampering
gladly up.

"You'll have to wait over, Motte," he said.

Mr. Motte's face fell.

"All right," he muttered.

"Why don't you give him that extra ticket?" proposed Mr. Grigsby, over
his shoulder, as he followed Charley.

"I was thinking of that. Here," Mr. Adams extended the ticket. "That
will help you out, won't it? We've no use for it. It will take you to
San Francisco."

"I'll leave on the next boat, then," stammered young Mr. Motte,
flushing. "I'll see you in San Francisco or the diggings, and pay you.
I surely will."

"No pay expected," returned Mr. Adams, now remounting the stairs, and
pressed close by the baggage. "It was given to us; we give it to you,
and glad to do so. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

Charley was about to call good-bye, also, but the words died on his
lips, for almost the first face that he saw, beyond the captain, as he
gained the deck, was the face of the long-nosed man. The long-nosed
man had touched the captain on the shoulder.

XI

CHARLEY LOSES OUT

"Who are you?" demanded the captain, brusquely.