“Look here, boys, what’s the use o’ mincin’ words. We don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelin’s, but Hal and I are goin’ to speak right out.” Captain Joe and Jerry had withdrawn to attend the newly-made fires in the engine room. “It ain’t because we ever did anything to deserve it, but our fathers are what you call rich men. And you fellows haven’t any fathers. If this thing figures out as big as we’re calculatin’, Hal and I want to buy the yacht—we’ll have enough.”
Mac said nothing, but Tom began shaking his head.
“Then we won’t go in it,” added Bob stoutly. “If we can’t do it all, we won’t do anything.”
“Let’s see how things turn out,” suggested Mac as a compromise.
With this, the other boys had to be satisfied. As soon as the pumps were working, Jerry taking the first turn at stoking, Mac and the other boys took Captain Joe to the Three Sisters in the Escambia. The camp equipment, the provisions and the tent outfit on the beach were then conveyed to the steamer, hauled on deck and, a little after eight o’clock, Captain Joe and Hal were tacking out of the tortuous Perdido Channel on their way to Pensacola.
There was a fresh breeze, and in an hour, the schooner was only a speck in the east. The boys left aboard the Elias Ward had enough to do. Spreading and drying the camp equipment took some time. Then there were visits to the helpless captain and Mr. Hawkins, and Jerry had to be relieved. At the first opportunity, Jerry and Mac boarded the Escambia, and in an hour, they returned with a half dozen red fish, a pail of crabs and a basket of oysters.
This made luncheon an event. Jerry’s assistance in the galley did not extend to the cooking, but he cleaned the fish and searched through the captain’s cabin until he had collected dishes, knives and forks sufficient for the noonday meal. Mac was the cook, and there was no question about his success. The day turned out fair. Toward noon, the wind died away, and the sun shone with springtime warmth.
Bob was a little stiff, but he carried no other evidences of his vigorous participation in the strenuous rescue. Just before noon, Mr. Hawkins appeared on deck. He showed the effects of the strain under which he had labored, but he was wonderfully improved. Until luncheon, he gave his time to Captain Hobson. Both Bob and Tom insisted on interfering with Chef Mac, but the only substantial contribution they made to the approaching meal was a dessert of fresh pineapples, of which they found an ample quantity aboard.
Captain Hobson’s dining room was just forward of the wheel. A skylight gave it ample sunshine and air. Here Jerry arranged the table, and luncheon was served. Bob and Tom protested over Mac’s long delay, but at last, about one o’clock, Mr. Hawkins was summoned, and with Jerry acting as waiter, the three boys and their guest sat down to a meal that was compensation for the long wait.
In the center of the table was a pyramid of luscious sugar pines, ripened in the tropics and not in shipping crates. Piled among the green waxen tops of these, were little “lady finger” bananas, such as cannot be shipped to the north, and oranges whose fragrance filled the saloon. In front of this “set piece” was a big glass bowl of shredded pineapple, swimming in its own piquant juice, unprofaned with sugar. At the other end of the table was a pitcher of iceless but none the less palatable lemonade—Bob’s work.