After they had passed a bend in the creek which concealed them from the road, Bobby felt secure from further molestation.
Sam pulled about two miles down the creek, where it widened into a broad bay, near the head of which was anchored a small schooner.
"Now, my hearty, nothing short of Uncle Sam's whole navy can get you away from me," said Sam, as he pulled alongside the schooner.
"You have been very kind to me." "All right, sonny.

Now tumble aboard." Bobby jumped upon the deck of the little craft and Sam followed him, after making fast the skiff to the schooner's moorings.
In a few minutes the little vessel was standing down the bay with "a fresh wind and a flowing sheet." Bobby, who had never been in a sail boat before, was delighted, and in no measured terms expressed his admiration of the working of the trim little craft.
"Now, sonny, where shall we go ?" asked Sam, as they emerged from the bay into the broad ocean.
"I don't know," replied Bobby.

"I want to get back to Boston." "Perhaps I can put you aboard of some coaster bound there." "That will do nicely." "I will head towards Boston, and if I don't overhaul any thing, I will take you there myself." "Is this boat big enough to go so far ?" "She'll stand anything short of a West India hurricane.

You ain't afeerd, are you ?" "O, no; I like it." The big waves now tossed the little vessel up and down like a feather, and the huge seas broke upon the bow, deluging her deck with floods of water.

Bobby had unlimited confidence in Sam Ray, and felt as much at home as though he had been "cradled upon the briny deep." There was an excitement in the scene which accorded with his nature, and the perils which he had so painfully pictured on the preceding night were all born into the most lively joys.
They ate their dinners from the provision box; Sam lighted his pipe, and many a tale he told of adventure by sea and land.