“They are still out looking for Featherweight,” continued Walter, “and haven’t been home since morning. I told mother where we are going and what we intend to do, and she says that when they return she will send them after us in the Lookout.”
The Lookout was Mr. Gaylord’s yacht. When the season closed she had been left at the village for repairs; and although the work on her was all completed, she had not yet been brought home. The boys would have been glad to make the cruise with her instead of the Banner, for she was a much swifter boat; but it required a crew of ten men to handle her, and that was a larger force than they could raise.
“Shall we wait for Uncle Dick, or go without him?” asked Walter, in conclusion.
“Let’s go now,” exclaimed Eugene. “There’s no knowing what we may lose by an hour’s delay. I’d as soon trust myself on the Gulf with you as with Uncle Dick.”
The other boys expressed the same unlimited confidence in their young commander, and urged an immediate departure; and Walter, who, like all modest young fellows, had a poor opinion of his abilities, turned to Perk, whom he had selected to act as his assistant, and rather reluctantly ordered him to get the yacht under way.
The members of the Club were in their element now, and if Featherweight had only been with them they would have been as happy as boys could well be. They loved their horses, and were quite at home in the saddle; but a staunch, swift vessel was what they most delighted in. The Banner suited them exactly. She was small—not more than one-fourth the size of the smuggling vessel—but she had been built under Walter’s own supervision, with an eye to comfort and safety rather than speed, and the boys knew that they could trust her anywhere.
In the forward part of the vessel, where the forecastle would have been located if she had had one, was the galley. It was a small apartment, of course, but it was well fitted up, and provided with everything in the shape of pots, pans, and kettles that any cook could possibly find use for. A door in one side of it opened directly into the cabin, which occupied the whole of the after-part of the vessel, no space being taken up with state-rooms. It was carpeted, and furnished with a small writing desk and chairs in abundance. Two lockers, one on each side, extended the whole length of it, and in them were stored away the hammocks in which the crew slept, the dishes, knives, forks and other things belonging to the table, and there was also plenty of space for the Club’s hunting and fishing accoutrements. The top and sides of the lockers were upholstered, and they were supplied with pillows so that they could be used as lounges or beds.
Under the hatchway, which opened into the cabin from the deck, was suspended a long, wide board, painted and varnished like the rest of the furniture. This was the table. When in use it was lowered into the cabin and kept in position—not by legs, like ordinary tables, but by polished iron rods which came down from the beams overhead. If that table could have found a tongue it would have told some interesting stories of the glorious times the Club and their friends had had while seated around it—of the quantities of roast duck, venison, oysters, catfish, quails, and other good cheer that had been placed upon it by old Sam, the cook, to be swept off by the hungry young yachtsmen; of the jokes that had been passed, and the funny things that had been said after the cloth was removed, and oranges, raisins, almonds and lemonade brought on; and of the speeches that had been made, the stories that had been told, and the hearty applauding blows that had been showered upon it by the Club as Featherweight finished singing one of his favorite songs. And not only the table, but everything else in the cabin was associated in the minds of the Club with some exciting cruise or some pleasing event. It was no wonder that they liked to be there, for a more cosy and comfortable apartment could not have been found anywhere.
In the hold of the schooner were stowed away the water-butts, the seven tons of stone-coal that served her for ballast, extra sails and ropes, two large anchors with cables complete, a chest of carpenter’s, calker’s, and sail-maker’s tools, an abundance of fuel for the galley—in fact everything that the little vessel could possibly need during a voyage could be found here. Walter, besides superintending the building of the yacht, had provided the outfit himself, and consequently there was nothing wanting. Everything was kept in the best order, too. There was never a rope out of place, or a drop of paint or grease on the deck. She was a model yacht. We have been thus particular in describing her because she is an old favorite of ours; and, as we shall have a good deal to say about her and her exploits, we want everybody to know how she looks.
“All hands stand by to get ship under way,” shouted Perk, repeating the order Walter had given him.