"I suppose that is our boat," said Mr. Black, rubbing his chin, "and I hope my razor's on it—I must look like a pirate by this time, or a tramp."
Coatless Mr. Black, without his daily shave and with his broken suspenders mended with odd bits of twine, certainly did look rather unlike his usually neat self.
"That boat isn't coming very fast," complained Marjory.
"It's a very clear day," explained Mrs. Crane, "so you can see a long distance. That boat is probably several miles away."
In spite of their impatience, the boat remained several miles away for a long, long time.
"If that is a boat," said Mr. Black, "it's the very slowest one on Lake Superior."
"Perhaps," suggested Jean, "it's going the other way."
But the boat was neither going nor coming. The engine had balked; and Captain Berry, for it really was Captain Berry, was waiting, as he had often waited before, for his defective electrical apparatus to get good and ready to work.