"Then she is an old boat?" asked Mr. Blake, apprehensively.
"Old enough to know how to weather many a storm that some of the new-fangled craft wouldn't dare venture out in. The only thing I have agin' her is that she's a steamer instead of a sailer, but with her engines stopped she can pick up a bone in her teeth when all her canvas is spread," added the old man, proudly. "She has new engines and boilers, and she's lit to make a trip around the world starting to-morrow; and I wish she was!"
"Maybe she will!" cried Dick, enthusiastically. "I think I'll take her, Mr. Blake. The Albatross is just what I want."
"Wait until you go below," suggested the lawyer with a smile. "Will you show us down, Mr.—er—Mr.—?" he paused significantly.
"Widkin is my name—Ebenezer Widkin," answered the old sailor, with a touch of his cap. "An' you can take your choice by callin' me Ebby or Widdy. Most of 'em calls me Widdy," he added with a grin, "in consequence of me never havin' married."
"Well, then, Widdy, take us below," suggested Mr. Blake, and soon he and Dick were exploring the interior of the craft. If the exterior, with its snow-white decks and mahogany rails, its ample companionways and other details had captivated Dick, the cabins, engine room, dining saloon and galley completed the conquest.
"I'll take her!" he said enthusiastically to Mr.
