"What do you suppose this boat is worth, Bobtail?" asked Captain c.h.i.n.ks, as he glanced forward and then aft, as if to survey the quality and capacity of the yacht.

"I'm sure I have no idea," replied the young skipper.

"They asked me twelve hundred dollars for one about this size in Newport last year," added the captain.

"That's a big price for a boat."

"But it was three hundred dollars less than she cost her owner two years before. This don't look like an old boat."

"No, she's nearly new. I looked into the run this morning, and the timbers and plank are as fresh as though she had just been built."

"I reckon she is a year or two old," added the captain. "She isn't worth less than a thousand dollars, though you may buy such a boat sometimes for half that money."

"Five hundred dollars is about all any boat of this size is worth down here."

"By the way, Bobtail, did she have any sort of a cargo in her when you picked her up?" asked Captain c.h.i.n.ks, in a careless way, as he raised and lowered the table-leaf in front of him, just as though he was more intent on ascertaining how the leaf worked than in obtaining an answer to his question.

This was a very important interrogatory on the part of the visitor, notwithstanding the indifference with which it had apparently been propounded; and Bobtail had been expecting it. In spite of all the captain had said, and in spite of the fact that he had declared he knew nothing about the Skylark, our hero could not help connecting his visitor with the contraband cargo; perhaps because the captain was the only man in Camden who had the reputation of being concerned in this sort of business.

"This is a pleasure craft, and wasn't built to carry cargo," replied Bobtail, who had already decided how to meet the question.

"That may be; but such boats do sometimes carry a small cargo. For instance, you could put many thousand dollars' worth of some kinds of goods in this cabin," added the captain, still fumbling over the table-leaf, which seemed to be an inexplicable mystery to him, though it may be added in defence of a man of his intelligence, and a boat-builder, too, that he always built keel-boats, while the Skylark was a centre-board.

"I dare say she could carry a million dollars' worth of gold or diamonds," added Bobtail, cheerfully, for he felt that his wily visitor was not getting much ahead of him.

"Yes; but she might carry heavier goods, such as cigars, liquors, silks, and things of that sort, for it don't take a great lot to be worth a thousand dollars. Did she have anything of this kind in her when you picked her up, Bobtail?"

"Why should any one think of carrying cigars and liquors in such a craft as this?" asked the skipper, laughing.

"That wan't exactly the question. I say, Monkey, won't you go on deck, and see which way the wind is," added the captain, turning suddenly upon the Darwinian, who was listening to the conversation with his mouth wide open, and trying with, all his might to discover what c.h.i.n.ks was driving at. "I reckon it's hauling more to the southward."

"Sartin; I'll see," replied Monkey, hastening on deck through the cook-room.

"You don't answer the question, Bobtail," said the captain.

"What makes you think there was any cargo in her?" demanded the skipper.

"I didn't say I thought there was any; I only asked you if there was."

In spite of Little Bobtail's indefinite opinions in regard to the moral turpitude of smuggling, he had very decided views on the subject of lying. He believed in telling the truth, though, like most other boys, I am afraid he did not invariably do so; but he always felt mean and guilty when he told anything in the shape of a lie. In the present instance he had made up his mind either to tell the truth or to keep still, not only because it was wicked to tell a lie, but because, in a smuggling case in which the government officers might soon have a hand, it might prove extremely dangerous.

"Well, captain, I didn't say there was any cargo in her," answered Bobtail, cautiously.

"I know you didn't; but I want you to tell me squarely whether there was or not."

"Why do you want me to tell you?"

"No matter why. I want you to tell me: that's all."

"The wind's about nor'-west, Captain c.h.i.n.ks," said Monkey, crawling into the cabin from the cook-room.

"It hasn't changed, then," added the visitor, vexed at the return of the Darwinian, who seated himself near Bobtail, intent upon hearing the rest of the conversation.

"No, sir, not a bit; it's been nor'-west all day, and I don't believe its goin' to change afore night."

"I say, Monkey, I want some fish for breakfast. If you will catch me two or three, and dress them, I'll make it all right with you."

Monkey did not like to lose any of the conversation about the boat; but he reluctantly went on deck in the hope of making a trifle by the job.

"I want you to answer my question squarely, Bobtail," continued Captain c.h.i.n.ks, returning vigorously to the charge, so vigorously that the skipper was almost confirmed in his suspicion connecting his visitor with the contraband cargo.

"I don't say there was or was not any cargo in her," replied Bobtail.

"But I want you to say," persisted the captain, sharply and sternly.

"Do you own this yacht, Captain c.h.i.n.ks?"

"I don't say whether I own her or not."

"And I don't say whether there was any cargo in her or not."

"What do you mean, Bobtail?"

"That depends upon what you mean, Captain c.h.i.n.ks."

"I don't understand you, Bobtail," said the visitor, struggling to suppress his anger.

"That's just my trouble; I don't understand you," laughed the skipper.

"I reckon we don't understand each other at all."

"I asked you a question, Bobtail, and I want an answer," added the captain, bringing his fist down upon the table-leaf, whose mysterious mechanism he had by this time fully mastered.

"I asked you a question, Captain c.h.i.n.ks, and _I_ want an answer,"

replied Bobtail.

"I don't want any of your impudence, and I won't take any of it."

"I didn't mean to be impudent, sir."

"But you talk to me just as though I was a boy like yourself. Now, answer my question."

"I hope you will excuse me, sir, when I say I can't answer it. I mean to be respectful, sir."

"You can answer it, Bobtail."

"I mean that, for certain reasons, I must decline to answer it."

"You must, eh?"