Three-quarters of an hour later Jack and Hal felt they had seen about as much of the town as they cared for, when a hailing voice stopped them.

“Finding it pretty dull, gentlemen?”

“Oh, good evening,” replied Captain Jack, recognizing the bearded man whom he had refused admittance to the “Farnum.”

“Pretty stupid town, isn’t it, Captain?” asked the stranger, holding out his hand, which Jack Benson took.

“As lively as we thought it would be,” Hal rejoined.  “We just came ashore to stretch ourselves a bit.  Thought we might lay a course to an ice-cream soda, too, but failed.”

“These fishermen don’t have such things,” smiled the stranger.  “They are content with the bare necessities of life, with a little grog and tobacco added.  Speaking of grog, would you care to try the best this town has, gentlemen?”

“Thank you,” Jack answered, politely.  “We’ve never either of us tasted the stuff, and we don’t care to begin.”

“Drop into the drug-store and have a cigar, then?”

“We don’t smoke, either, thank you,” came from Hal.

“You young men are rather hard to entertain in a place like this,” sighed the stranger, but his eyes twinkled.

“We are just as grateful for the intention,” Jack assured him.

“Tell you what I can do, gentlemen,” proposed the stranger, suddenly.  “I might invite you down to my shack for a little while, and show you my books and some models of yachts and ships that I’ve been collecting.  I’m quite proud of my collection in that line.  Won’t you come?”

Anything in the line of yacht or ship-models interested both of these sea-loving boys from the shipyard at Dunhaven.  Jack graciously accepted the invitation for them both.

“And, though I have no soda fountain,” continued the bearded one, “I can offer you some soft drinks.  I always keep some about the place.”

“How do you come to be living in a place like this, if I’m not too inquisitive?” queried Benson, as the three strolled down the street.

“Doctor’s orders,” replied the bearded one.  “So I’ve rented the best old shack I could get here, down by the water.  I spend a good deal of my time sailing a sloop that I have.  Curtis is my name.”

Jack and Hal introduced themselves in turn.

Curtis’s shack proved to be well away from the village proper, and down near the waterfront.  A light shone from a window near the front door as the three approached the small dwelling.

“I think I can interest you for an hour, gentlemen,” declared the bearded one, as he slipped a key in the lock of the door.

He admitted them to a little room off the hallway, a room that contained not much beyond a table and four chairs, a side-table and some of the accessories of the smoker.

“Just take a seat here,” proposed Curtis, “while I get some sarsaparilla for you.  I’ll be right back in a moment.”