When Hornblower questioned Jim so closely in the cabin and took down his replies, he had not a particle of doubt that the boy was telling him a tissue of falsehoods from beginning to end.  Toward the close of the examination, however, it began to dawn on the abductor that possibly he had made an error.  Be that as it might, he was none the less convinced that he had a bonanza in his hands, and one which could be made to serve him as well as the original himself.

His captive corresponded so closely to the one advertised that he could be made to pass muster as such, and the reward secured.  This, it would seem, was almost an impossible task, but Hornblower was confident of success.

This explanation will serve to show why he took the precautions which had excited the impatience of his confederate, Bob.

Jim Travers did not know all this, but he easily understood from the conversation of the two conspirators that he had been stolen for the sake of making money out of his return.

“What a great mistake they have made,” he thought; “there isn’t any one in the wide world that would give three cents to have me returned.”

He concluded to stay quietly on board the schooner and let matters take their course, as it did not occur to him that any personal danger might arise from future complications.  Could he have dreamed of what was coming, he would have jumped overboard and risked drowning in his attempt to reach land.

Jim had learned enough from the conversation in the cabin to keep him awake until midnight.  It was near morning when he dropped off into slumber, which was not broken until the forenoon of the succeeding day was half gone.

When he went on deck, he saw that the schooner was far below the city, and standing straight toward the ocean.  The weather was again cold, so he kept within the cabin most of the time.

That night the negro Sam complained of feeling unwell, and threw his massive form into his hammock, in the hope of becoming better after a short rest.  His sickness was not of a serious nature; but when such a big man falls ill there is a great deal of it, and the African instantly formed the belief that he was going to die, certain sure.

He groaned, and cried, until Jim himself became frightened, and went on deck to ask the others to look after him.  They replied that there was nothing the matter with Sam, and that he would soon come around all right.

Jim did his best to relieve the negro, giving him the few simple remedies at hand, in the hope that he would drop off to sleep.  Sure enough, in the course of half an hour Sam did fall asleep, and when he awoke, an hour later, was well; and, fully appreciating Jim’s kind attentions, said to him, leaning on his enormous elbow in the hammock,—­

“Tell you what, sonny, yous been mighty kind to me, and I’ll remember you, dat’s what I’ll do.”

“You would have done the same for me, Sam.”