“Mr. Danton was thinkin’ of takin’ a cruise,” explained the boatman. “And when you bought the Wisp, sir, he telegraphed to turn her over right away, in case you wanted to use her while you was here. Well, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be walkin’ over to the station to catch my train back to Polocoke.” He touched his cap and tramped away up the knoll toward the road.
“Let’s all go for a sail in her,” said May Belle.
At the suggestion, an idea sprang full-grown into Fessenden’s mind.
“Some other time,” he returned. “I’d rather try her out by myself first. I want to see if she has any mean tricks before I risk any life besides my own. If the wind’s right, I may tack about a bit this afternoon.”
He realized that he had explained too elaborately—Miss Yarnell bent an intent look upon him. As he was returning up the pathway at her side—the others a safe distance ahead—she touched his arm.
“Please take me with you when you go sailing this afternoon?”
“Oh, I may not go. If I do, I think you’d better not. You see, the Wisp may be a crank.”
“Nonsense! Besides, I’m a good sailor—swimmer too. I shouldn’t care if we were capsized.”
“I’d care for you.”
“Please take me. I want particularly to go.”