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
