“It’s slow but it’s safe an’ easy, Ma’am,” he informed Mrs. Calvert.
“Then it’s the very thing, the only thing, we want,” she answered, promptly. “I never did believe in that engine in the hands of an amateur.”
Jim didn’t fancy this reflection on his skill, believing that he already knew as much about machinery as an expert did and that he had mastered all that John Stinson could teach him. However, he was beyond reach of the beloved little engine now and the first thing to do was to bring the two boats together again.
Under Cap’n Jack’s direction this was promptly done; and great was old Ephraim’s rejoicing when, at last, the familiar gang-plank was once more in place and he had crossed over it to his beloved mistress’s presence.
“T’ank de Lord, Miss Betty, you didn’t get sca’ed to death! I sutney beliebed we was all gwine to de bottom of de ribbah! An’ I was plumb scan’lized ter t’ink o’ yo’ po’ li’l white body all kivvered wid mud, stidder lyin’ in a nice, clean tomb lak yo’ oughter. I——”
“That’ll do, Ephraim. I’ll take all the rest you were going to say for granted. Here, Metty, sit down in that corner and keep still. You’re safe now and—are you hungry?”
The morning light was rapidly increasing and seen by it the little black face looked piteous indeed. But there were few troubles of Methuselah’s which “eatings” couldn’t cure; so his mistress promptly dispatched Dorothy to her stateroom for a big box of candy, brought along “in case of need.” Never would need be more urgent than now, and not only did the little page’s countenance brighten, when the box appeared, but everybody else dipped into it as eagerly—it seemed such a relief to do such an ordinary thing once more.
The sun rose and shone as if to make them forget the night of storm; and after a breakfast, hastily prepared on the little oil stove in the tender, a feeling of great content spread through the little company. Engineer Stinson had missed his train, but was now glad of it; for he had gained time to examine the engine, though disappointed at the report he had to make.
“Useless, for the present, Madam, I regret to say. Owing to the sudden jar against the end of the wharf, or the wind’s dashing the tender about, some parts are broken. To get it repaired will take some time. Shall I send down a tug to tow you back to the city? And have a man from the shop attend to it? My own job will keep me from doing it myself, though I’d like to.”
“Thank you,” said Aunt Betty, and, for a moment, said nothing more. But she looked from one to another of the eager young faces about her and read but one desire on all. This was so evident that she smiled as she asked: