Part 15

On that point Captain Candage might have found Mate McGaw of the Olenia willing to engage in profitable discussion and amicable understanding!

“They don't make it-they don't know enough to make it,” stated Otie, with the conviction of a man who knew exactly what he was talking about. “It has all been left to 'em by their fathers.”

The bearded and brown men of the apple-tree crews leaned the patched elbows of their old coats on the rails and gloomily surveyed the conviviality on board the plaything crafts. Remarks which they exchanged with one another were framed to indicate a sort of lofty scorn for these frolickers of the sea. The coasting skippers, most of whom wore hard hats, as if they did not want to be confounded with those foppish yacht captains, patrolled their quarter-decks and spat disdainfully over their rails.

Everlastingly there was the clank of pumps on board the Apple-treers, and the pumps were tackling the everlasting leaks. Water reddened by contact with bricks, water made turbid by percolation through paving-blocks, splashed continuously from hiccuping scuppers.

Captain Ranse Lougee of the topsail schooner Belvedere, laden with fish scraps for a Boston glue-factory, dropped over the counter into his dory and came rowing to the Polly, standing up and facing forward and swaying with the fisherman's stroke.

He straddled easily over the schooner's scant freeboard and came aft, and was greeted cordially by Captain Candage.

“Thought I'd show them frosted-cakers that there's a little sociability amongst the gents in the coasting trade, too,” he informed his host. “Furthermore, I want to borry the ex-act time o' day. And, furthermore, I'm glad to get away from that cussed aromy on board the Belvedere and sort of air out my nose once in a while. What's the good word, Cap?”

Captain Candage replied to the commonplaces of the other skipper in abstracted fashion. He had viewed Lougee's approach with interest, and now he was plainly pondering in regard to something wholly outside this chatter.

“Captain Lougee,” he broke in, suddenly, in low tones, “I want you should come forward with me out of hearing of anybody below. I've got a little taakul I want you to help me overhaul.”

The two walked forward over the deckload and sat on the fore-gaff, which sprawled carelessly where it had fallen when the halyards were let run.

“My daughter is below, there,” explained Captain Candage.

“Vacation trip, eh?”

“I don't think it can be called that, Captain Lougee,” stated the host, dryly. “She is having about as good a time as a canary-bird would have in a corn-popper over a hot fire.”

“What did she come for, then?”

“I made her come. I shanghaied her.”

“That's no way to treat wimmen folks,” declared Captain Lougee. “I've raised five daughters and I know what I'm talking about.”

“I know you have raised five girls, and they're smart as tophet and right as a trivet--and that's why I have grabbed right in on the subject as I have. I was glad to see you coming aboard, Captain Lougee. I want some advice from a man who knows.”

“Then I'm the man to ask, Captain Candage.”

“Last time I was home--where she has been living with her Aunt Zilpah--I ketched her!” confessed Candage. His voice was hoarse. His fingers, bent and calloused with rope-pulling, trembled as he fingered the seam of his trousers.

“You don't tell!” Lougee clucked, solicitously.

“Yes, I ketched her buggy-riding!”

“Alone?”

“No, there was a gang of 'em in a beach-wagon. They was going to a party. And I ketched her dancing with a fellow at that party.”

“Well, go ahead now that you've got started! Shake out the mainsail!”

“That's about all there is to it--except that a fellow has been beauing her home from Sunday-school concerts with a lantern. Yes, I reckon that is about all to date and present writing,” confessed Candage.

“What else do you suspect?”

“Nothing. Of course, there's no telling what it will grow to be--with dudes a-pestering her the way they do.”

“There ain't any telling about anything in this world, is there?” demanded Captain Lougee, very sharply.