VII
CLANCY CROSSES MINNIE ARKELL
The Johnnie Duncan only needed to have her stores taken aboard to go to sea. And that was attended to next morning, and she was out for her trial trip the same afternoon. Everybody said she looked as handsome as a photograph going out, though all the old sharks, when they saw her mainsail hoisted for the first time, said she’d certainly have need of her quarter and draught to stand up under it.
It was a great day for sailing, though––the finest kind of a breeze, and smooth water. We early carried away our foretopmast, which had a flaw in it. It was just as well to discover it then. Without topsail and balloon we had it out with the Eastern Point on her way back from Boston. She was not much of a steamer for speed, but her schedule called for twelve knots and she generally made pretty near it––eleven or eleven and a half, according to how her stokers felt, I guess. We headed her off after a while, and that was doing pretty well for that breeze, with a new vessel not yet loosened up.
“But the balloon was too much for her,” said Mr. Duncan, as we shot into the dock after beating the Eastern Point.
“No, the balloon was all right––’twas the topm’st was a bit light,” answered Maurice.
Old Mr. Duncan smiled at that. “But what do you think of her, Captain Blake?”
“Oh, she’s like all the rest of them when she’s alone––sails like the devil,” the skipper answered to that, but he smiled with it and we all knew he was satisfied with her.
That night was the Master Mariners’ Ball, and I waited up till late to talk with my cousin Nell, who had gone there with Will Somers. Finally they came along past my house and I hailed them.