"What, girls keep a secret?" scoffed the visitor.
"Don't you think they can?" demanded Tommy, squinting at him with one eye tightly closed.
"Never saw one that could."
"Then pleathe look at me."
"By the way, Mr. McCarthy," called Mrs. Livingston, "did you mention the name of our new captain, the one who owns and sails the boat?"
"That's so. I reckon I forgot that. He is known as Captain Bill. His real name, I believe, is Cummings."
"You are quite sure that he is all right, are you, Mr. McCarthy?"
"Has a reputation second to none among the Portsmouth skippers. I took care of that, knowing you were a lot of lone women and girls down here. I didn't see him personally. Took my friend Lawyer Roberts's word for it, and what else I could pick up about the docks," added Mr. McCarthy. "But I must be thinking about getting back."
"Surely, Daddy, you are never going to think of walking back, are you?"
"Not I. I hear an automobile coming. I'm just going to get out to the road and beg a ride. They'll be keeping along on this road for at least ten miles and I can walk the rest of the way in, if I have to. In case I do not see you again, Mrs. Livingston, here's good-bye and good luck. I hope you all have a fine time with the boat. If that skipper doesn't obey orders, day or night, get a telegram to me instantly, and I'll bounce him right off. But don't let Jane send any telegrams. She'll break me, she's so long-winded—"