breeze blowing from just the quarter Captain Ponsberry wanted it. The Rev. Martin Wells and two other passengers came aboard directly after breakfast, a score of friends with them to see them off. Larry had already informed Captain Morgan of the change he had made and bidden his former sailing-master good-by, and there was no one else to see.
At nine o'clock sharp the lines were unloosed and Larry flew with the rest to set first one sail and then another. Everything was, of course, strange to the boy, for ships are not built alike, and he paid strict attention to business, feeling that the eyes of Captain Ponsberry and Tom Grandon must be on him. He heard Grandon speak to a newcomer, and knew it must be the belated Norwegian sailor, but did not just then catch sight of the man. If he had, there might have been a row then and there, and Larry's future adventures would have had a vastly different cast.
Only the jib and mainsail were set as the Columbia crept down through the coral channel leading from Honolulu harbor to the mighty ocean beyond. The lighthouse was soon passed, and then the schooner pointed almost westward, passing Barber's
