they crossed the Brandywine bar and paddled
past the docks of Wilmington. Outside in the Delaware there was a choppy
sea that made their progress slower, and the sun had set when the slim
little craft ran in for the beach above New Castle. The voyagers
shouldered their packs and made their way up the High Street to the
brick house.
When the greetings were over and the boys were changing their clothes
before coming down for supper, Clarke Curtis entered their room. "Lads,"
he said, "I'd advise you to go early to bed tonight. You'll need a long
rest, for in the morning you start overland for New York." At Bob's
exclamation of surprise he went on to explain that the _Indian Queen_
had weighed anchor two days before for that port, and as there was no
other ship leaving the Delaware soon, he wished the boys to board her at
New York for the voyage to New England. Both youngsters were overjoyed
at the prospect of an early start. Bob, who had been promised that he
could accompany his chum, was hilarious over the news, while Jeremy was
too happy to speak.
Later, as they were packing their belongings for the trip, Job Howland
came in. He, too, looked excited. "Jeremy, boy," he said, "I'd have
liked to go north with you, but something else has come my way. Mr.
Curtis bought a new schooner, the _Tiger_, last week, and she's being
fitted out now for a coast trader. He offered me the chance to command
her!"
"Three cheers!" shouted Bob. "Then New Castle will be your home port,
and I'll see you after every voyage!"
The three comrades chatted of their prospects a while and shortly went
to bed.
CHAPTER XXV
The boys and their luggage were on their way to Wilmington in the family
chaise before dawn, and it was scarce seven o'clock when they bade
farewell to the old colored serving-man and clambered aboard the
four-horse coach that connected in Philadelphia with the mail coach for
New York.
The coaches of that day were cumbersome affairs, huge of wheel, and with
ridiculously small bodies slung on wide strips of bull's hide which
served for springs. The driver's box was high above the forward running
gear. There were as yet no "seats on top," such as were developed in the
later days of fast stage-coach service.
In one of these rumbling, swaying conveyances the boys rode the thirty
miles to Philadelphia, crossing the Schuylkill at Gray's Ferry about
noon. They had barely time for a bite of lunch in the White Horse
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