“Dey’s so few folks trabelin’ by water dis ’clement season ob de year dat it ’most don’t seem much use to ’ploy a flagman to come down yer twice a week to ’tend it. But dey do tell me, better come ten times for noffin dan to let one passenger be disappointed.”
“But couldn’t passengers hoist the flag for themselves?” inquired the young man.
“Dem as understood could; but it ain’t ebery stranger as comes down here to take de boat what knows dey is got to raise de flag. An’ ’less de flag is riz, de boat won’t stop, when it ain’t got nobody on board to land here. And now, young marse, de boat’ll be here in a foo minutes.”
“David, dear, come here, please,” said Gloria, walking off to a little distance.
He followed her and she placed in his hand a well-filled pocket-book.
“What is this for?” he inquired.
“For our expenses. I forgot to hand it to you before; forgot even that it would be needed; but you had better take it now, before we go on the boat.”
He flushed crimson to the very edge of his black hair, as he gave her back the pocket-book and said:
“No, lady, dear, I do not need it, indeed; I have saved something from years of labor, and I have plenty for our present needs.”
It was now Gloria’s time to blush.