"Will she sail?"
"Y'bet. Let's launch her."
From the window Mrs. Britt watched the two as they walked down to the shore. She recalled the day, over twenty years ago, when another little lad had trotted as eagerly as Rod by the captain's side, and it was to sail a small boat, too. Her eyes grew misty as her thoughts went back to that scene. But mingled with this sadness was a feeling of thankfulness that her husband had taken such a strong liking to Rod. Not since Jimmy left had he done such a thing, and she was hopeful that this child would unconsciously change him back to the genial big-hearted man he was when she married him.
Rod was delighted with the Flying Queen, and wading in the water to his knees, he sailed her along the shore. The captain had a pickerel net to look after, which kept him busy for some time. But he missed scarcely anything that Rod was doing, and he was greatly pleased at the boy's delight.
"Pull her ashore now, lad," he at length ordered, "and let's go fer a sail."
"What, in the Roaring Bess?" Rod eagerly asked, as he glanced toward the yacht fretting gently at her anchor a short distance away.
"Sure thing. Dinner won't be ready fer an hour, so we'll take a spin around fer awhile."
Rod could hardly believe his senses. How often he had looked upon the Roaring Bess from the respectable distance of the main road. To have a sail in her had been his one great ambition. While lying in bed he had often imagined himself skimming over the water, with the sail, big and white, bending above him. Now his dream had really come true, and here he was at last sitting by Captain Josh's side, watching him as he headed the boat upstream. A gentle breeze was drifting in from westward, sufficient to fill the sail and send the Roaring Bess speeding over the water. A deep sigh escaped Rod's lips.
"Hey, what's wrong?" the captain cried. "Gittin' tired, and want to go home?"
"Oh, no, no," was the emphatic reply. "I sighed because I am so happy."