After Tom had examined every thing in them to his satisfaction, Mr. Graves conducted him through a door that led from the cabin into the hold. It was dry and airy, and large enough to contain all the merchandise that Tom was likely to put into it. From the hold they went into the galley, which was furnished with a small stove, and with all the pots, pans, and kettles, that any cook could possibly find use for. Tom was delighted with every thing he saw, but, after all, he did not look much like a boy who expected soon to be the owner of the finest little yacht about the village. Indeed, he was by no means certain that she would ever belong to him; for, while Mr. Graves was conducting him about the vessel, and explaining every thing to him, he kept saying to himself:
"O, now, I wonder if I shall ever be captain of this boat! What shall I do if my new plan fails?"
Tom, of course, did not believe that his plan for obtaining possession of the yacht would prove unsuccessful, but still he felt rather anxious about it, for the failure of his lottery scheme had made him timid. Mr. Graves noticed that there was something wrong with him, and as they ascended to the deck he inquired:
"What's the matter with you? If I was in your place, and knew that I was soon to be the owner of this fine little vessel, I'd be livelier than you are! Are you sea-sick?"
Tom thought this as good an opportunity as he should have to try his new plan; so he summoned all his courage to his aid, and replied:
"O, no! It is something worse than that!"
"Worse than sea-sickness!" repeated Mr. Graves. "Then it must be something bad. You have nothing to trouble you!"
"O, now, yes I have!" drawled Tom. "I've seen more trouble than any other boy in the whole world!"
The boat-builder looked at Tom a moment, to see if he was really in earnest, and then burst into a loud laugh. "Why, what have you to worry about?" he asked. "You have no hard work to do, like many boys of your age in the village; you have a rich father who gives you every thing you want; you live in a fine house; you own the prettiest little pony in the country, and, besides, you are master of a vessel that can't be beaten by any thing of her size in America. I think your lot in life a very pleasant one."