There was a grin on the man's face as he spoke, and this, together with his recollection of the decanter, left no illusions in Drew's mind as to the character of the celebration.
"Any message to leave for the captain, sir?" the man inquired.
"Nothing important," returned Drew carelessly. "I may drop around and see him to-morrow." And he blessed the belated windlass which would give him a reasonable excuse for returning.
But even though the captain was absent, there were other things at hand that spoke of the girl with the hazel eyes. There was the place where she had dropped the letters. There was the post against which she had leaned as she watched him recover them. And there, as he bent over the edge of the pier, he saw the little boat that had played its part in the day's happenings.
How musical her voice was! And she had smiled at him once—no, twice! Smiled not only with her lips but with her eyes.
He thought of her as he went slowly uptown. He thought of her until he went to sleep and then his thinking changed to dreaming.
Decidedly, Tyke was not the only one who was hard hit on that eventful day.