"O Mr. McCarthy! you embarrass me. But tell us about the boat," answered Harriet laughingly.
"It's just a little old sailboat, that's all—one I picked up at Portsmouth; but even though she's a tub, she is perfectly safe and you may go as far as you wish with her, always first consulting with the captain and the commodore."
"Oh, is there to be a captain? Am I to be the captain?" questioned Jane mischievously.
"My grathiouth, I hope not," exclaimed Grace.
"No. The captain owns this particular boat, and he will be wholly in charge of the actual operation of it, acting upon the orders of the commodore as to who is to go and when and where. Now it's all out and I'm glad of it. I—"
Mr. McCarthy's further words were unheard because of the cheer given by the Camp Girls, in which Mrs. Livingston and the guardians joined enthusiastically, much to the discomfiture of the guest, who half rose as though to run away. Evidently thinking better of it, he settled back in his seat and wiped his forehead.
Jane got up, and, running to her father, threw a pair of impulsive arms about his neck.
"Isn't he the darling Dad, though, girls?"
"He is," agreed the Chief Guardian.
"You won't think tho after we have all gone and drowned ourthelveth from thith—from the—what ith the name of the thhip on which we are going to thail the thalt water?"