The green light rolled in a great half-circle inshore, and disappeared. A red light curved into sight.
Wickett jumped up. "Come on, Carlin, I'll get permission to leave the ship. We'll be there before she lowers the port ladder."
"No, but drop me at the landing on the way and I'll see you in the morning at the hotel. How's that?"
Carlin saw him before the morning. He was in the lobby of the hotel when Wickett with his wife, a fine big boy, and a lovely little baby girl, got out of the hotel 'bus. The boy was clinging to Wickett's hand, all the while talking rapturously of the trip of the Clermont. With his free arm Wickett was carrying the baby, which was murmuring, "Papa, papa, papa!"
Carlin would have known Mrs. Wickett without an introduction or the presence of the boy and the baby. Merely from the way she looked at Wickett he knew that this was the girl who had gone sailing with him in the dawn and become engaged before breakfast.
"It's all right," smiled Wickett, with his cheek against the baby's. "This one can't seem to say anything but papa!"
Carlin nodded, and whispered: "And you couldn't afford it?"
Wickett grinned. "We couldn't; but we did. We always do."
"And how about the service—going to quit it?"