“Oh, I hope so,” fervently declared Frank.  “If anything should happen to Charley, I could never forgive myself for bringing him down here with me.  His parents would be prostrated with grief.”

“I believe you’ll find it to be as I say,” Jack continued.

“Sure thing,” cried Tom.  “Those fellows may be pretty rough amongst their own neighbors, and do things that are mighty bad, but when they get amongst outsiders, they know that an inquiry would be made to trace the chaps who disappear.  All three boys are safe, I really believe.  At least, I’ll require positive proof to the contrary.”

Presently the boys prepared to retire.  They felt quite satisfied to know that their home was once more afloat.  Jack declared he rested better when the vessel was rocked by the waves.

None of the lads slept soundly.  Rowdy seemed to have lost his composure of a few hours earlier and paced up and down the cabin.

Occasionally one of the boys would start up from his bunk and wander about to peer from the windows or pilot house.  The moon light flooded the town and river, turning the rigging of the ships into silver and glittering in dazzling bits of light from the rippling waters.  Deep black shadows were cast by every object.

Thus up and down the boys were passing a restless night.

“Get up fellows,” called Tom at length.  “Here’s a pretty sight.  A schooner—­I think she’s a three master—­is leaving town.  See the fountain of sparks from the tug’s smokestack.  What a sight it is to see those sails going up.  I wonder where she’s headed for.”

“Look at the man away up there in the top,” cried Jack.

“And there goes another up the main rigging,” put in Tom.  “The sails go up slowly somehow.  I guess she’s short handed.”

“Maybe she’s like many another vessel that my father has told me about,” offered Frank.  “He has often told me of ships that left port with only two or three sober hands besides the captain and officers.  When they were once outside the harbor and had been dropped by the tug, the mate would go to forecastle and rouse out the hands.  If they were drunk, he’d beat them until they were sober.”

“What a terrible thing,” cried Jack in horrified tones.

“And then he sometimes has told me of fellows who were shanghaied aboard vessels against their will and kept below until so far away that swimming back would have been suicide.”

“Why didn’t they complain when they once got ashore?” asked Tom.  “I should go right to the American Consul at the port.”

“Well, maybe they felt that if they did they would have had fair treatment and maybe not.  You know a captain of a vessel is king on board his boat when they are at sea.  He might log a man for mutiny and the chap would be glad to run away from the vessel when he landed.

“It must be a tough life on those deep sea craft in spite of all the fine stories we read.  I don’t want to go to sea.”