Dorothy on a House Boat

“I mean just what I say and I’m so glad to have you to talk it over with. I daren’t say a word to her about it, of course, and I can’t talk to the servants. They get just frantic. Once I said something to Dinah and she went into a fit, nearly. Said she’d tear the house down stone by stone ’scusin’ she’d let her ‘li’l Miss Betty what was borned yeah be tu’ned outen it.’ You see that dear Auntie, in the goodness of her heart, has taken care of a lot of old women and old men, in a big house the family used to own down in the country. Something or somebody has ‘failed’ whatever that means and most of Aunt Betty’s money has failed too. If she sells Bellvieu, as the ‘city’ has been urging her to do for ever so long, she’ll have enough money left to still take care of her ‘old folks’ and keep up their Home. If she doesn’t – Well there isn’t enough to do everything. And, though she doesn’t say a word of complaint, it’s heart-breaking to see the way she goes around the house and grounds, laying her old white hand on this thing or that in such a loving way – as if she were saying good-bye to it! Then, too, Jim, did you know that poor Mabel Bruce has lost her father? He died very suddenly and her mother has been left real poor. Mabel grieves dreadfully; so, of course, she must be one of our guests on the Water Lily. She won’t cheer up Aunt Betty very well, but you must do that. She’s very fond of you, Jim, Aunt Betty is, and it’s just splendid that you’re free from Dr. Sterling now and can come to manage our boat. Why, boy, what’s the matter? Why do you look so ‘sollumcolic?’ Didn’t you want to come? Aren’t you glad that ‘Uncle Seth’ gave me the ‘Water Lily’?”

“No. I didn’t want to come. And if Mrs. Betty’s so poor, what you doing with a house-boat, anyway?”

Promptly, they fell into such a heated argument that Ephraim felt obliged to interfere and remind his “li’l miss” that she was in a public conveyance and must be more “succumspec’ in yo’ behavesomeness.” But she gaily returned that they were now the only passengers left in the car and she must make stupid Jim understand – everything.

Finally, she succeeded so far that he knew the facts:

How and why the house-boat had become Dorothy’s property; that she had three hundred dollars in money, all her own; and that, instead of putting it in the bank as she had expected, she was going to use it to sail the Water Lily and give some unhappy people a real good time; that Jim was expected to work without wages and must manage the craft for pure love of the folks who sailed in it; that Aunt Betty had said Dorothy might invite whom she chose to be her guests; and that, first and foremost, Mrs. Calvert herself must be made perfectly happy and comfortable.

“Here we are! There she is! That pretty thing all white and gold, with the white flag flying her own sweet name – Water Lily! Doesn’t she look exactly like one? Wasn’t it a pretty notion to paint the tender green like a real lily ‘Pad?’ and that cute little row-boat a reddish brown, like an actual ‘Stem?’ Aren’t you glad you came? Aren’t we going to be gloriously happy? Does it seem it can be true that it’s really, truly ours?” demanded Dorothy, skipping along the pier beside the soberer Jim.

But his face brightened as he drew nearer the beautiful boat and a great pride thrilled him that he was to be in practical charge of her.

“Skipper Jim, the Water Lily. Water Lily, let me introduce you to your Commodore!” cried Dorothy, as they reached the gang-plank and were about to go aboard. Then her expression changed to one of astonishment. Somebody – several somebodies, indeed – had presumed to take possession of the house-boat and were evidently having “afternoon tea” in the main saloon.

The wharf master came out of his office and hastily joined the newcomers. He was evidently annoyed and hastened to explain:

“Son and daughter of Mr. Blank with some of their friends. Come down here while I was off duty and told my helper they had a right to do that. He didn’t look for you to come, to-day, and anyway, he’d hardly have stopped them. Sorry. Ah! Elsa! Afraid to stay alone back there?”

A girl, about Dorothy’s age, had followed the master and now slipped her hand about his arm. She was very thin and sallow, with eyes that seemed too large for her face, and walked with a painful limp. There was an expression of great timidity on her countenance, so that she shrank half behind her father, though he patted her hand to reassure her and explained to Dorothy:

“This is my own motherless little girl. She’s not very strong and rather nervous. I brought her down here this afternoon to show her your boat, but we haven’t been aboard. Those people – they had no right – I regret – ”

Dolly, vexatious with the “interlopers,” as she considered the party aboard the Water Lily, gave place to a sudden, keen liking for the fragile Elsa. She looked as if she had never had a good time in her life and the more fortunate girl instantly resolved to give her one. Taking Elsa’s other hand in both of hers, she exclaimed:

“Come along with Jim and me and pick out the little stateroom you’ll have for your own when we start on our cruise – next Monday morning! You’ll be my guest, won’t you? The first one invited.”

Elsa’s large eyes were lifted in amazed delight; then as quickly dropped, while a fit of violent trembling shook her slight frame. She was so agitated that her equally astonished father put his arm about her to support her, and the look he gave Dorothy was very keen as he said:

“Elsa has always lived alone. She isn’t used to the jests of other girls, Miss Calvert.”

“Isn’t she? But I wasn’t jesting. My aunt has given me permission to choose my own guests and I choose Elsa, first, if she will come. Will you, dear?” and again Dolly gave the hand she held an affectionate squeeze. “Come and help us make our little cruise a perfectly delightful one.”

Once more the great, dark eyes looked into Dorothy’s brown ones and Elsa answered softly: “Ye-es, I’ll come. If – if you begin like this – with a poor girl like me – it should be called ‘The Cruise of Loving Kindness.’ I guess – I know – God sent you.”

Neither Dorothy nor Jim could find anything to say. It was evident that this stranger was different from any of their old companions, and it scarcely needed the father’s explanation to convince them that “Elsa is a deeply religious dreamer.” Jim hoped that she wouldn’t prove a “wet blanket” and was provoked with Dorothy’s impulsive invitation; deciding to warn her against any more such as soon as he could get her alone.

Already the lad was feeling as if he, too, were proprietor of this wonderful Water Lily, and carried himself with a masterful air which made Dolly smile, as he now stepped across the little deck into the main cabin.

It was funny, too, to see the “How-dare-you” sort of expression with which he regarded the “impudent” company of youngsters that filled the place, and he was again annoyed by the graciousness with which “Doll” advanced to meet them. In her place – hello! what was that she was saying?

“Very happy to meet you, Miss Blank – if I am right in the name.”

A tall girl, somewhat resembling Helena Montaigne, though with less refinement of appearance, had risen as Dorothy moved forward and stood defiantly awaiting what might happen. Her face turned as pink as her rose-trimmed hat but she still retained her haughty pose, as she stiffly returned:

“Quite right. I’m Aurora Blank. These are my friends. That’s my brother. My father owns – I mean – he ought – We came down for a farewell lark. We’d all expected to cruise in her all autumn till – . Have a cup of tea, Miss – Calvert, is it?”

“Yes, I’m Dorothy. This is Elsa Carruthers and this – James Barlow. You seem to be having a lovely time and we won’t disturb you. We’re going to inspect the tender. Ephraim, please help Elsa across when we come to the plank.”

The silence which followed proved that the company of merrymakers was duly impressed by Dolly’s treatment of their intrusion. Also, the dignity with which the old colored man followed and obeyed his small mistress convinced these other Southerners that his “family” was “quality.” Dorothy’s simple suit, worn with her own unconscious “style,” seemed to make the gayer costumes of the Blank party look tawdry and loud; while the eager spirituality of Elsa’s face became a silent reproof to their boisterous fun, which ceased before it.

Only one member of the tea-party joined the later visitors. This was the foppish youth whom Aurora had designated as “my brother.” Though ill at ease he forced himself to follow and accost Dorothy with the excuse:

“Beg pardon, Miss Calvert, but we owe you an apology. We had no business down here, you know, and I say – it’s beastly. I told Rora so, but – I mean, I’m as much to blame as she. And I say, you know, I hope you’ll have as good times in the Lily as we expected to have – and – I’ll bid you good day. We’ll clear out, at once.”

But Dorothy laid her hand on his arm to detain him a moment.

“Please don’t. Finish your stay – I should be so sorry if you didn’t, and you’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

Gerald Blank stared and asked:

“In what way, please? I’m glad to think it.”

“Why, I was going to hunt up your address, or that of your family. I’d like to have you and your sister go with us next week on our cruise. We mayn’t take the same route you’d have chosen, but – will you come? It’s fair you should and I’d be real glad. Talk it over with your sister and let me know, to-morrow, please, at this address. good-bye.”

She had slipped a visiting-card into his hand and while he stood still, surprised by her unexpected invitation, she hurried after her own friends – and to meet the disgusted look on Jim Barlow’s face.

“I say, Dolly Calvert, have you lost your senses?”

“I hope not. Why?”

“Askin’ that fellow to go with us! The idea! Well, I’ll tell you right here and now, there won’t be room enough on this boat for that popinjay an’ me at the same time. I don’t like his cut. Mrs. Calvert won’t, either, and you’d ought to consult your elders before you launch out promiscuous, this way. All told, it’s nothing but a boat. Where you going to stow them all, child?”

“Oh, there’ll be room enough, and you should be studying your engine instead of scolding me. You’re all right, though, Jimmy-boy, so I don’t mind telling you that whatever invitations I’ve given so far, were planned from the very day I was allowed to accept the Lily. Now get pleasant right away and find out how much or little you know about that engine.”

Jim laughed. Nobody could be offended with happy Dorothy that day, and he was soon deep in exploration of his new charge; his pride in his ability to handle such a perfect bit of machinery increasing every moment.

When they returned from the tender to the main saloon they found it empty and in order. Everything was as shipshape as possible, the young Blanks having proudly demonstrated their father’s skill in arrangement, and then quietly departing. Gerald’s whispered announcement to his sister had secured her prompt help in breaking up their tea-party, and she now felt as ashamed of the affair as he had been.

At last, even Jim was willing to leave the Water Lily, reminded by hunger that he’d eaten nothing since his early breakfast; and returning the grateful Elsa to her father’s care, he and Dorothy walked swiftly down the pier to the car line beyond, to take the first car which came. It was full of workmen returning from the factories beyond and for a time Dorothy found no seat, while Jim went far forward and Ephraim remained on the rear platform, whence, by peering through the back window, he could still keep a watchful eye over his beloved “li’l miss.”

Somebody left the car and he saw the girl pushed into a vacant place beside a rough, seafaring man with crutches, and poorly clad. He resented the “old codger’s” nearness to his dainty darling and his talking to her. Next he saw that the talk was mostly on Dorothy’s side and that when the cripple presently left the car it was with a cordial handshake of his little lady, and a smiling good-bye from her. Then the “codger” limped to the street and Ephraim looked after him curiously. Little did he guess how much he would yet owe that vagrant.

CHAPTER III
THE DIFFICULTIES OF GETTING UNDER WAY

How that week flew! How busy was everybody concerned in the cruise of the wonderful Water Lily!

Early on the morning after his arrival, Jim Barlow repaired to Halcyon Point, taking an expert engineer with him, as Aunt Betty had insisted, and from that time till the Water Lily sailed he spent every moment of his waking hours in studying his engine and its management. At the end he felt fully competent to handle it safely and was as impatient as Dorothy herself to be off; and, at last, here they all were waiting on the little pier for the word of command or, as it appeared, for one tardy arrival.

From her own comfortable steamer-chair, Aunt Betty watched the gathering of the company and wondered if anybody except Dolly could have collected such a peculiar lot of contrasts. But the girl was already “calling the roll” and she listened for the responses as they came.

“Mrs. Elisabeth Cecil Somerset Calvert?”

“Present!”

“Mrs. Charlotte Bruce?”

“Here.”

“Mabel Bruce?”

“Present!”

“Elsa Carruthers?”

“Oh! I – don’t know – I guess – .” But a firm voice, her father’s, answered for the hesitating girl, whose timidity made her shrink from all these strangers.

“Aurora Blank? Gerald Blank?”

“Oh, we’re both right on hand, don’t you know? Pop’s pride rather stood in the way, but – Present!”

“Mr. Ephraim Brown-Calvert?”

The old man bowed profoundly and answered:

“Yeah ’m I, li’l miss!”

“That ends the passengers. Now for the crew. Captain Jack Hurry?”

Nobody responded. Whoever owned the rapid name was slow to claim it. But Dorothy smiled and proceeded. “Cap’n Jack” was a surprise of her own. He would keep for a time.

“Engineer James Barlow?”

“At his post!”

“Master Engineer, John Stinson?”

“Present!” called that person, laughing. He was Jim’s instructor and would see them down the bay and into the quiet river where they would make their first stop.

“Mrs. Chloe Brown, assistant chef and dishwasher?”

“Yeah ’m I?” returned the only one of Aunt Betty’s household-women who dared to trust herself on board a boat “to lib.” She was Methuselah’s mother and as his imposing name was read, answered for him; while the “cabin boy and general utility man” ducked his woolly head beneath her skirts, for once embarrassed by the attention he received.

“Miss Calvert, did you know that you make the thirteenth person?” asked Aurora Blank, who had kept tally on her white-gloved fingers.

“I hope I do – there’s ‘luck in odd numbers’ one hears. But I’m not – I’m not! Auntie, Jim, look yonder – quick! It’s Melvin! It surely is!”

With a cry of delight Dorothy now rushed down the pier to where a street-car had just stopped and a lad alighted. She clasped his hands and fairly pumped them up and down in her eagerness, but she didn’t offer to kiss him though she wanted to do so. She remembered in time that the young Nova Scotian was even shyer than James Barlow and mustn’t be embarrassed. But her questions came swiftly enough, though his answers were disappointing.

However, she led him straight to Mrs. Calvert, his one-time hostess at Deerhurst, and there was now no awkward shyness in his respectful greeting of her, and the acknowledgment he made to the general introductions which followed.

Seating himself on a rail close to Mrs. Betty’s chair he explained his presence.

“The Judge sent me to Baltimore on some errands of his own, and after they were done I was to call upon you, Madam, and say why her father couldn’t spare Miss Molly so soon again. He missed her so much, I fancy, while she was at San Leon ranch, don’t you know, and she is to go away to school after a time – that’s why. But – ”

The lad paused, colored, and was seized by a fit of his old bashfulness. He had improved wonderfully during the year since he had been a member of “Dorothy’s House Party” and had almost conquered that fault. No boy could be associated for so long a time with such a man as Judge Breckenridge and fail to learn much; but it wasn’t easy to offer himself as a substitute for merry Molly, which he had really arrived to do.

However, Dolly was quick to understand and caught his hands again, exclaiming:

“You’re to have your vacation on our Water Lily! I see, I see! Goody! Aunt Betty, isn’t that fine? Next to Molly darling I’d rather have you.”

Everybody laughed at this frank statement, even Dolly herself; yet promptly adding the name of Melvin Cook to her list of passengers. Then as he walked forward over the plank to where Jim Barlow smilingly awaited him, carrying his small suit-case – his only luggage, she called after him:

“I hope you brought your bugle! Then we can have ‘bells’ for time, as on the steamer!”

He nodded over his shoulder and Dorothy strained her eyes toward the next car approaching over the street line, while Mrs. Calvert asked:

“For whom are we still waiting, child? Why don’t we go aboard and start?”

“For dear old Cap’n Jack! He’s coming now, this minute.”

All eyes followed hers and beheld an old man approaching. Even at that distance his wrinkled face was so shining with happiness and good nature that they smiled too. He wore a very faded blue uniform made dazzlingly bright by scores of very new brass buttons. His white hair and beard had been closely trimmed, and the discarded cap of a street-car conductor crowned his proudly held head. The cap was adorned in rather shaky letters of gilt: “Water Lily. Skipper.”

Though he limped upon crutches he gave these supports an airy flourish between steps, as if he scarcely needed them but carried them for ornaments. Nobody knew him, except Dorothy; not even Ephraim recognizing in this almost dapper stranger the ragged vagrant he had once seen on a street car.

But Dorothy knew and ran to meet him – “last but not least of all our company, good Cap’n Jack, Skipper of the Water Lily.”

Then she brought him to Aunt Betty and formally presented him, expressing by nods and smiles that she would “explain him” later on. Afterward, each and all were introduced to “our Captain,” at whom some stared rather rudely, Aurora even declining to acknowledge the presentation.

“Captain Hurry, we’re ready to embark. Is that the truly nautical way to speak? Because, you know, we long to be real sailors on this cruise and talk real sailor-talk. We cease to be ‘land lubbers’ from this instant. Kind Captain, lead ahead!” cried Dorothy, in a very gale of high spirits and running to help Aunt Betty on the way.

But there was no hurry about this skipper, except his name. With an air of vast importance and dignity he stalked to the end of the pier and scanned the face of the water, sluggishly moving to and fro. Then he pulled out a spy glass, somewhat damaged in appearance, and tried to adjust it to his eye. This was more difficult because the lens was broken; but the use of it, the old man reckoned, would be imposing on his untrained crew, and he had expended his last dollar – presented him by some old cronies – in the purchase of the thing at a junk shop by the waterside. Indeed, the Captain’s motions were so deliberate, and apparently, senseless, that Aunt Betty lost patience and indignantly demanded:

“Dorothy, who is this old humbug you’ve picked up? You quite forgot – or didn’t forget – to mention him when you named your guests.”

“No, Auntie, I didn’t forget. I kept him as a delightful surprise. I knew you’d feel so much safer with a real captain in charge.”

“Humph! Who told you he was a captain, or had ever been afloat?”

“Why – he did;” answered the girl, under her breath. “I – I met him on a car. He used to own a boat. He brought oysters to the city. I think it was a – a bugeye, some such name. Auntie, don’t you like him? I’m so sorry! because you said, you remember, that I might choose all to go and to have a real captain who’ll work for nothing but his ‘grub’ – that’s food, he says – ”

“That will do. For the present I won’t turn him off, but I think his management of the Water Lily will be brief. On a quiet craft – Don’t look so disappointed. I shall not hurt your skipper’s feelings though I’ll put up with no nonsense.”

At that moment the old man had decided to go aboard and leading the way with a gallant flourish of crutches, guided them into the cabin, or saloon, and made his little speech.

“Ladies and gents, mostly ladies, welcome to my new ship – the Water Lily. Bein’ old an’ seasoned in the knowledge of navigation I’ll do my duty to the death. Anybody wishin’ to consult me will find me on the bridge.”

With a wave of his cap the queer old fellow stumped away to the crooked stairway, which he climbed by means of the baluster instead of the steps, his crutches thump-thumping along behind him.

By “bridge” he meant the forward point of the upper deck, or roof of the cabin, and there he proceeded to rig up a sort of “house” with pieces of the awning in which there had been inserted panes of glass.

But the effect of his address was to put all these strangers at ease, for none could help laughing at his happy pomposity, and after people laugh together once stiffness disappears.

Gerald Blank promptly followed Melvin Cook to Jim’s little engine-room on the tender, and the colored folks as promptly followed him. Their own bunks were to be on the small boat and Chloe was anxious to see what they were like.

Then Mrs. Bruce roused from her silence and asked Aunt Betty about the provisions that had been brought on board and where she might find them. She had been asked to join the party as housekeeper, really for Mabel’s sake, from whom she couldn’t be separated now, and because Dorothy had argued:

“That dear woman loves to cook better than anything else. She always did. Now she hasn’t anybody left to cook for, ’cept Mabel, and she’ll forget to cry when she has to get a dinner for lots of hungry sailors.”

The first sight of Mrs. Bruce’s sad face, that morning, had been most depressing; and she was relieved to find a change in its aspect as the woman roused to action. There hadn’t been much breakfast eaten by anybody and Dorothy had begged her old friend to:

“Just give us lots of goodies, this first meal, Mrs. Bruce, no matter if we have to do with less afterwards. You see – three hundred dollars isn’t so very much – ”

“It seems a lot to me, now,” sighed the widow.

But Dorothy went on quickly:

“And it’s every bit there is. When the last penny goes we’ll have to stop, even if the Lily is right out in the middle of the ocean.”

“Pshaw, Dolly! I thought you weren’t going out of sight of land!”

“Course, we’re not. That is – we shall never go anywhere if my skipper doesn’t start. I’ll run up to his bridge and see what’s the matter. You see I don’t like to offend him at the beginning of things and though Jim Barlow is really to manage the boat, I thought it would please the old gentleman to be put in charge, too.”

“Foolish girl, don’t you know that there can’t be two heads to any management?” returned the matron, now really smiling. “It’s an odd lot, a job lot, seems to me, of widows and orphans and cripples and rich folks all jumbled together in one little house-boat. More ’n likely you’ll find yourself in trouble real often amongst us all. That old chap above is mighty pleasant to look at now, but he’s got too square a jaw to be very biddable, especially by a little girl like you.”

“But, Mrs. Bruce, he’s so poor. Why, just for a smell of salt water – or fresh either – he’s willing to sail this Lily; just for the sake of being afloat and – his board, course. He’ll have to eat, but he told me that a piece of sailor’s biscuit and a cup of warmed over tea would be all he’d ever ‘ax’ me. I told him right off then I couldn’t pay him wages and he said he wouldn’t touch them if I could. Think of that for generosity!”

“Yes, I’m thinking of it. Your plans are all right – I hope they’ll turn out well. A captain for nothing, an engineer the same, a housekeeper who’s glad to cook for the sake of her daughter’s pleasure, and the rest of the crew belonging – so no more wages to earn than always. Sounds – fine. By the way, Dorothy, who deals out the provisions on this trip?”

“Why, you do, of course, Mrs. Bruce, if you’ll be so kind. Aunt Betty can’t be bothered and I don’t know enough. Here’s a key to the ‘lockers,’ I guess they call the pantries; and now I must make that old man give the word to start! Why, Aunt Betty thought we’d get as far as Annapolis by bed-time. She wants to cruise first on the Severn river. And we haven’t moved an inch yet!”

“Well, I’ll go talk with Chloe about dinner. She’ll know best what’ll suit your aunt.”

Dorothy was glad to see her old friend’s face brighten with a sense of her own importance, as “stewardess” for so big a company of “shipmates,” and slipping her arm about the lady’s waist went with her to the “galley,” or tiny cook-room on the tender. There she left her, with strict injunctions to Chloe not to let her “new mistress” overtire herself.

It was Aunt Betty’s forethought which had advised this, saying:

“Let Chloe understand, in the beginning, that she is the helper – not the chief.”

Leaving them to examine and delight in the compact arrangements of the galley she sped up the crooked stair to old Captain Jack. To her surprise she found him anything but the sunny old fellow who had strutted aboard, and he greeted her with a sharp demand:

“Where’s them papers at?”

“Papers? What papers?”

“Ship’s papers, child alive? Where’s your gumption at?”

Dorothy laughed and seated herself on a camp-stool beside him.

“Reckon it must be ‘at’ the same place as the ‘papers.’ I certainly don’t understand you.”

“Land a sissy! ’Spect we’d be let to sail out o’ port ’ithout showin’ our licenses? Not likely; and the fust thing a ship’s owner ought to ’tend to is gettin’ a clean send off. For my part, I don’t want to hug this dock no longer. I want to take her out with the tide, I do.”

Dorothy was distressed. How much or how little this old captain of an oyster boat knew about this matter, he was evidently in earnest and angry with somebody – herself, apparently.

“If we had any papers, and we haven’t – who’d we show them to, anyway?”

Captain Hurry looked at her as if her ignorance were beyond belief. Then his good nature made him explain:

“What’s a wharf-master for, d’ye s’pose? When you hand ’em over I’ll see him an’ up anchor.”

But, at that moment, Mr. Carruthers himself appeared on the roof of the cabin, demanding:

“What’s up, Cap’n Jack? Why don’t you start – if it’s you who’s to manage this craft, as you claim? If you don’t cut loose pretty quick, my Elsa will get homesick and desert.”

The skipper rose to his feet, or his crutches, and retorted:

“Can’t clear port without my dockyments, an’ you know it! Where they at?”

“Safe in the locker meant for them, course. Young Barlow has all that are necessary and a safe keeper of them, too. Better give up this nonsense and let him go ahead. Easier for you, too, Cap’n, and everything’s all right. Good-bye, Miss Dorothy. I’ll slip off again without seeing Elsa, and you understand? If she gets too homesick for me, or is ill, or – anything happens, telegraph me from wherever you are and I’ll come fetch her. Good-bye.”

He was off the boat in an instant and very soon the Water Lily had begun her trip. The engineer, Mr. Stinson, was a busy man and made short work of Captain Hurry’s fussiness. He managed the start admirably, Jim and the other lads watching him closely, and each feeling perfectly capable of doing as much – or as little – as he. For it seemed so very simple; the turning of a crank here, another there, and the thing was done.

However, they didn’t reach Annapolis that night, as Mrs. Calvert had hoped. Only a short distance down the coast they saw signs of a storm and the lady grew anxious at once.

“O Dolly! It’s going to blow, and this is no kind of a boat to face a gale. Tell somebody, anybody, who is real captain of this Lily, to get to shore and anchor her fast. She must be tied to something strong. I never sailed on such a craft before nor taken the risk of caring for so many lives. Make haste.”

This was a new spirit for fearless Aunt Betty to show and, although she herself saw no suggestions of a gale in the clouding sky, Dorothy’s one desire was to make that dear lady happy. So, to the surprise of the engineers, she gave her message, that was practically a command, and a convenient beach being near it was promptly obeyed.

“O, Mr. Captain, stop the ship – I want to get out and walk!” chanted Gerald Blank, in irony; “Is anybody seasick? Has the wild raging of the Patapsco scared the lady passengers? I brought a lemon in my pocket – ”

But Dorothy frowned at him and he stopped.

“It is Mrs. Calvert’s wish,” said the girl, with emphasis.

“But Pop would laugh at minding a few black clouds. He built the Water Lily to stand all sorts of weather. Why, he had her out in one of the worst hurricanes ever blew on the Chesapeake and she rode it out as quiet as a lamb. Fact. I wasn’t with him, course, but I heard him tell. I say, Miss Dolly, Stinson’s got to leave us, to-night, anyway, or early to-morrow morning. I wish you’d put me in command. I do so, don’t you know. I understand everything about a boat. Pop has belonged to the best clubs all his life and I’m an ‘Ariel’ myself – on probation; that is, I’ve been proposed, only not voted on yet, and I could sail this Lily to beat the band. Aw, come! Won’t you?” he finished coaxingly.

John Stinson was laughing, yet at the same time, deftly swinging both boats toward the shore; while Jim Barlow’s face was dark with anger, Cap’n Jack was nervously thumping his crutches up and down, and even gentle Melvin had retreated as far from the spot as the little tender allowed. His shoulders were hunched in the fashion which showed him, also, to be provoked and, for an instant Dorothy was distressed. Then the absurdity of the whole matter made her laugh.