keep on the look-out for them, will you? I have so many other things to attend to,” was Mr. Dalken’s request.
“All right, Dalky! Go on and do your duty, but don’t kill yourself working for others – as you always do,” laughed Polly, waving a hand at him.
“There, Polly! Now you’d better come with me and stand at the rail to watch for your brother and Anne,” advised Tom, anxiously.
“Yes? and have you stand there and talk nonsense to me, eh,” laughed Polly, softly, in order that others might not hear.
Tom bit his lip. Polly knew she was uncharitable, but she rebelled at Tom’s constant tagging her when she wanted to enjoy the company of other friends, too, and she generally spoke impulsively and regretted it later.
At this crisis between the two conditional lovers, Eleanor unconsciously played the good fairy by drawing Polly’s attention to a little side-play between Elizabeth and Pete Maynard. They had quietly withdrawn from the group of young people and were now enjoying a tête-à-tête back of the funnel which acted as a partial screen for them.
“I just wanted to say that Elizabeth’s mother has trained her carefully to encourage only such young men as can show an attractive bank-roll. Totty never deigned to notice Ken and Paul, but quickly attached herself to Pete. Well, Pete is playing the same game as Elizabeth’s mother plays, and Dad knows too much to let Pete use his money for fortune hunters!” was Eleanor’s sarcastic remark.
“But you must remember, Nolla, Totty isn’t what one might call a fortune-hunter, any more than Pete is. Mr. Dalken has no other heir to his wealth, and some day Elizabeth will have more than she can use,” remonstrated Polly.
“Pooh! Mr. Dalken is a handsome youngish man, Polly, and our Mrs. Courtney is a fascinating, lonely youngish woman – there!”
At such frank match-making between the two girls, Tom Latimer gasped. The girls laughed at his shocked expression, and Eleanor added in a whisper: “Tom, old dear, why do you think Elizabeth’s mother sent her on this cruise with the father who is so heartily detested by the social moth, and has been completely ignored for years?”
“W-e-ell,” stammered Tom, innocently, “I’m sure I don’t know. Now that you mention it, I think I can see a little light.”
Eleanor laughed as she patted Tom on the back. “That’s a good boy! Go to the head of the class!”
Just as a taxi drove recklessly up to the wharf, the whistle on the yacht blew a terrific blast. Every one glanced apprehensively at the pilot house to see what this meant. Surely the Captain had no intentions of leaving then and there! Mr. Dalken was seen to hurry to the Captain’s room to inquire into the unexpected signal.
John and Anne hurried on board and were soon surrounded by welcoming friends, Polly the center of the group. All concern over the whistle was forgotten in the gossip about the gold mine and all the doings at Pebbly Pit Ranch. Anne had many packages to deliver to Polly from her mother, and John had advices galore from her father.
At a second warning call from the ear-splitting siren Mr. Dalken came hurrying from the Captain’s room. His face expressed impatience as he joined his friends. They paused in their noisy conversation to hear what he wished to say.
“Captain Blake tells me that the pilot he has on board to take us out as far as Sandy Hook declares he will leave this boat unless he can get started at once. He avers that he is losing the tide, as well as other jobs he signed up for. If he leaves us that means we will have to delay our start until to-morrow,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Oh, no, no!” sounded from several young throats, as their owners crowded about Mr. Dalken to give good reasons why they should start at once.
“But we just got here!” cried John in a disappointed tone.
“That’s your loss – you ought to collect damages from the Twentieth Century Limited,” retorted Eleanor.
“Oh, if only John and Anne would remain on board with us and go as far as Jacksonville, where we expect to touch to pick up Nolla’s father!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
“Say, John, that’s a capital idea! Why not do it?” asked Mr. Dalken, quickly.
“What of my baggage at the Grand Central – and the rooms we wired to hold for us from today?” queried John.
“I’ll see to the trunk, John, and one of the others will cancel the reservation at the hotel,” offered Kenneth Evans.
During the eager talk occasioned by Polly’s suggestion, Tom Latimer seemed very thoughtful. When it was finally decided that John and his wife would remain as Mr. Dalken’s guests as far as Florida, Tom deliberately spoke up! “I’ll reconsider my refusal to be one of your party as far as Jacksonville, Mr. Dalken. John and I have so many important business matters to discuss at once, that this short voyage will give us the opportunity we need.”
Polly looked amazed, and a general smile rippled the faces of all the others present. They knew only too well what Tom’s important business matters consisted of.
“That’s too bad of you, Tom,” exclaimed Polly, daringly. “I had hoped to have a few words with my brother myself; now that all your time will be engaged in business affairs I shall have to attach my company to another champion until we reach Florida.”
Tom sulked at these words and a number of the friends in the group laughed outright. But the sudden shrill blast overhead summarily disposed of such trifles as a lover’s scene. “There!” declared Mr. Dalken. “That’s the last call he’ll give us, he said. If we don’t obey his orders he’ll leave at once.”
This rude manner of sending his guests away seemed to hurt Mr. Dalken’s gentle heart, but his friends laughed at his concern.
Midst shouts of goodbys and many advices to the would-be mariners, the visiting party hurried from the yacht, leaving Tom and John and Anne on deck with those remaining for the cruise.
Just as the friends on shore hoped to see the sailor cast off the rope which had been looped about the heavy post on the wharf, a frenzied cry from a young man seen to be racing like mad down the walk to the dock, drew all attention that way. Even the Captain watched the sprinter to see what might be wrong at the last minute.
It turned out to be Jim Latimer laden with boxes of bon bons and flowers. He had sent Ken on ahead to tell the girls he was hunting in the locality for proper little memos of his faithful love for them all, but Kenneth had forgotten to mention it.
“Heigh, there!” shouted Jim, furiously, to the man he saw grinning from the pilot house, “don’t you start until I get on with these presents!”
Jim’s father tried to prevent his son from springing on board the yacht where all hands were hastening to cast off, but Jim had not become an expert football player on Yale’s team for nothing.
In a few giant leaps he was on board and in a few more strides he joined the young people. Naturally the young contingent congratulated him upon arriving just in time, and the elders laughed tolerantly.
“Think I was going to chase all over the West Side for decent candies and flowers and then get left at the last moment?” demanded Jim, mopping his perspiring face with his handkerchief.
“You’re just in time to say goodby and get off again,” hinted his brother Tom, who felt that his temperamental younger brother might interrupt
