"That will not be fair, for I have very little to put into it."
"Our combined capital will not be burdensome, but such as it is we ought
to share it," replied Jack laughing.
"Well, I will leave it to you, only mind, I insist upon a correct
account being kept so that I can repay you if I overdraw."
"Agreed," said Jack, smiling. "We will be as accurate as a bank."
"If you have really made up your mind we may as well walk round to the
shipping office, and see whether we can go by the 'Golden Land.'"
The Captain of the "Golden Land" chanced to be in the office when they
entered, and the manager introduced them. Captain Seagrave was a bluff
hearty sailor of the old school, not given to oily words or polished
language, but an able skipper, and his employers knew it would be hard
to find a better man for their work.
He had made many voyages to Australia and other countries, and risked
his life in ships that were anything but seaworthy. He eyed the two
young men curiously, and a humorous smile spread over his face. He
hardly thought them the class of passenger for a rough and tumble trip
to Fremantle in the "Golden Land." At the same time, he saw a prospect,
in their company, of the monotony of the voyage being broken. In reply
to the manager he said--
"There's d--d little room on board for human beings; the accommodation
is limited, and the bunks are not equal to the best shake-downs in a
decent hotel. There's a tarnation lot of company in the ship sometimes,
which we get rid of in the best way we can. The dining saloon, gents, is
not on a par with an Atlantic liner's, but there's ample room for
feeding, providing the sea's calm. When she's in motion, the 'Golden
Land' lets you know it. If the firm's willing, I'll take you both, and I
daresay we shall pass the time pleasantly enough. We shall know each
other inside out before we reach Fremantle, I guess."