Indeed, he kept the boys on velvet, so to speak, for the first two days at sea.
Then his mood changed with lack of leisure moments. He was constantly on the alert and abrupt in word and action.
There was a sailor constantly in the crosstrees, sweeping the watery expanse with powerful glasses. The gunners were standing, watch about, in readiness for any emergency.
As a completing touch to this deck setting a runway had been rigged and the boys for the first time realized the part they were expected to play. There was a pair of monoplanes under cover, a waspish pair, of exquisite make and finish.
“Get to them and get them in shape,” sternly ordered Roque, “as if your lives depended on it—and” (grimly) “I guess they do.”
In this assignment Billy and Henri took the star rôles.
“Smoke ahead,” sang out the man up the mast.
“Whereaway?” demanded the captain.
“South by southeast,” floated back from the masthead.
“Get that?” The captain to the wheelman.