"I am looking for the schooner Peacock," said he. "Do you know anything of the craft?"
"Sure, an' that's Gus Langless' boat," said one of the watchmen. "She's lying at the end of Bassoon's wharf, over yonder."
"Thank you," and Tom started away.
The wharf mentioned was a long one, and it took some time for the youth to reach the outer end. As he ran he saw a boat in the distance, moving away with all sails set. Of course he could not make out her name, but he saw that she was schooner-rigged, and felt certain she must be the craft for which he was searching.
At the end of the pier he met a dock hand, who had been resting in a nearby shed.
"Is that boat the Peacock?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know anything of the people on board?"
"I do not."
"Has she a cargo?"
"I believe not."
"You didn't see anybody going on her?"
"Hold up! Yes, I did; a young fellow and a man."
"Was the young man in a feeble state?"
"He seemed to be."
"Thank you."
