He stood on the string-piece of the pier admiring the motor craft. As he took in the various details, and glimpsed into the motor-room through the opened transoms of the trunk cabin, he heard a voice speaking.
“Well, daddy, how long are we going to stay here?” was asked in girlish tones.
Larry started at the sound. Where had he heard that voice before?
“By Jove!” he exclaimed to himself.
A moment later there was a movement in a companionway, and a girlish figure came on deck. For an instant the young lady gazed at Larry Dexter. Then she exclaimed:
“Oh, daddy, you’ll never guess who’s here!”
“Who?” came a voice from below.
“Our reporter! Larry Dexter. Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” she cried, holding out her hands. “Wherever did you come from, and how did you know that we were going to put in here? You newspaper men know everything, I believe, and what you don’t you always guess at!”
“Grace!” cried Larry. “Grace Potter! Well, I never knew your father had a motor yacht.”
“Come on board!” she cried. “We have only had it a little while. We’ve been cruising about, daddy and I, and now we don’t know what to do next. Maybe you can suggest something.”