"You shan't. I'll see to that," I said to myself; but this time she was not looking even at the brim of my cap. Her eyes, luminous with childlike happiness, searched and photographed each new feature of river-life that skimmed swiftly past us.
"We might become motor-boat pirates," she went on. "There'd be no anti-climax about that; and I dare say we could make a living. We'd hoist the black flag whenever we came to a nice lonely stretch of water, with a rich-looking barge or two, or a fine country house on shore, and the work would begin. Tibe would terrorize our victims. But, speaking of the black flag, I see the star-spangled banner floats o'er the deck of the free and the cabins of the brave. How charming of you to think of putting it there, Mr. Starr! It would never have occurred to me."
"It would have been charming, if it had occurred to me," said the Mariner; "but it didn't."
"Perhaps our skipper can explain the mystery," remarked the Chaperon, graciously.
I smiled. "I happened to have the little silk flag," said I, "and as the owner of the boat is an American, I took the liberty of flying her colors from the mast to-day; they went up early this morning. But we have another flag with us for emergencies—that of my Sailing and Rowing Club,—which, when we show it, will give us the right to enter sluices—or locks, as you call them—ahead of anything else."
"Alb, you have your uses," observed the Mariner. "Why can't we keep your flag up all the time—under the Stars and Stripes?"
"It wouldn't be fair to make use of it except in extreme cases," I said. "All these lighter and bargemen whom we see have their living to get. Time's money to them, while it's pleasure to us. It's right that they should get through ahead, when they're first comers; but there may be occasions when we shall need our advantage; and till then I'll keep the flag up my sleeve, with your permission."
"I never thought to feel so safe on a motor-boat," exclaimed Miss Rivers. "Since we made up our minds to come—or rather Nell made up hers—I've added another prayer to those I've been accustomed to say for years—that we shouldn't blow up, or, if we had to blow up, that we shouldn't realize long enough beforehand to be frightened; and that we should blow into quite little pieces which couldn't know anything about it afterwards. But now I've such a peaceful feeling, I have to make myself remember that any instant may be my last."
"I wouldn't try," said Miss Van Buren. "I suppose, when one thinks of it, worse things could happen to one on a motor-boat than in a motor-car, because there's water all round; but it seems so heavenly restful, rather like motoring in heaven might be, and no frightened horses, or barking dogs, or street children to worry you."
"I pity people on steamboats, just as the other day, when we motored, I pitied people in stuffy black trains," said Miss Rivers. "But I don't pity the people on lighters and barges. Don't they look delightful? I should love to live on that one with the curly-tailed red lion on the prow, and the green house with white embroidered curtains and flower-pots, and sweet little china animals in the windows. It's called 'Anna Maria,' and oh, it's worked by a motor!"