The Captain made no reply, but deliberately turned his back upon Jarreth as he walked away, and began puffing furiously at his pipe.
“Well, Billy Wentworth,” he said, taking his first notice of the boy, who had stood waiting until the altercation should end, “how did you like Sally Shute?”
“I liked her lots,” Billy replied with enthusiasm, “and I am glad I went. Here are your boxes: I will carry them up to the house.”
“Sit down a bit until I finish my pipe,” the Captain said. “That persistent cuss is waiting up there at the cottage and we may as well let him cool his heels a while. His time isn’t worth anything except to think up mischief.”
Billy took his place on the bench beside the old sailor and sat staring out to sea.
“What is Johann Happs doing out there in his boat?” he inquired at last. “Is he going to sail her?”
“I think not today,” Captain Saulsby answered. “He is always working out there at something or other. He is as fond of her as though she were his own kin. He hasn’t any one belonging to him, maybe that is why he loves her so.”
Just at this moment a small boy came lounging down the path with as little hurry as though all the world were waiting for him. He was short and fat and looked so much like a lesser edition of Sally that there could be no doubt of his being Jacky Shute.
“I’m just a-goin’ to weed those onions, Captain Saulsby,” he said hastily, to prevent the old sailor’s speaking first. “I stayed down by the wharf a little late, fishing, but there’s plenty of time yet. It’s not five o’clock.”
He scurried away across the garden, leaving the Captain sputtering with helpless indignation.