“Hadn’t thought about that,” meekly admitted the Captain, as he took the telescope.
“Have you got a trunk to send over?”
“No.”
Miss Pipkin breathed a deep sigh of relief as they passed out of the gates. She looked back at the weather-beaten old buildings of the County Farm into which ten years of her life had gone. But she felt no pang on leaving.
The Captain kept up a constant stream of 130 conversation on the way down to the wharf. Suddenly, Miss Pipkin stopped, and suspiciously eyed the seaman.
“Josiah, how are we going back?”
“In my Jennie P.”
“In your what?”
“In my power-boat, the Jennie P.”
“Josiah Pott! You know I ain’t been aboard a boat for more than twenty year, and I ain’t going to start out on the thing, whatever-you-call-it!”