“What of it? You’ve got the vessel and you must win––I’ll bet all the loose money I have in the world on her. Remember I own a third of 170 her. Mr. Duncan sold me a third just before I left Gloucester.”
That was a surprise to us––that Mrs. Miner owned a part of the Johnnie Duncan. It set Clancy to figuring, and turning in that night, he said––he was full of fizzy wine, but clear-headed enough––“Well, what do you make of that? The Foster girl a third and Minnie Arkell a third of this one. I’m just wise to it that it wasn’t old Duncan alone that wanted Maurice for skipper. Lord, Lord, down at the Delaware Breakwater do you remember that when we heard that the Foster girl owned a part of this one, I said, like the wise guy I thought I was, ‘Ha, ha,’ I said, ‘so Miss Foster owns a third? That’s it, eh?’ And now it’s Minnie Arkell a third. Where does Withrow come in? And did you hear her when she invited Maurice to the time they’re going to have on that same steam-yacht to-morrow night?––that was when she whispered to him at the gangway, when we were leaving. She tried to get him to promise to come, and at last he said he would if he was in the harbor. ‘Then be sure to be in the harbor––you’re skipper and can do as you please. Do come,’ she said at the last, good and loud, ‘and tell them how to sail a vessel in heavy weather. They only play at it, so do come and tell them.’ And then in a low voice––‘But I want you to come for yourself.’ 171 That’s what she says––‘For yourself,’ she says––in a whisper almost. ‘Take a run into the harbor to-morrow night if you can, Maurice,’ she says. O Lord, women––women––they don’t know a thing––no,” and Clancy turned in.
XX
THE SKIPPER PUTS FOR HOME
We were out of Newport Harbor before daybreak of next morning, and cruised inside Block Island all that day. We all thought the skipper would be in to Newport that night––it was no more than a two hours’ run the way the wind was––and we waited.
The test came after supper. We had supper as usual, at three o’clock. Breakfast at four, dinner at ten, supper at three––mug-ups before and after and in between. Along about four o’clock the skipper, standing on the break, stood looking back toward where Newport lay. Had we turned then we’d have been in nicely by dark. It was a fine afternoon––the finest kind of an afternoon––a clear blue sky, and a smooth blue sea with the surface just rippling beautifully. All fire was the sun and the sails of every vessel in sight looked white as could be. Several yachts passed us––steam and sail––all bright and handsome and all bound into Newport, and the skipper’s eyes rested long on them––on one of them particularly with music aboard.
The skipper looked back a long time––looked back, and looked back. He began walking the quarter––back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The sun got lower and lower, the sea lost some of its blue, and the air grew fresher, and still he kept looking back.