“Oh, they are only a lot of reporters,” answered Ben Watkins, carelessly. In his heart he was glad enough to feel that the press of the whole country was certain to be informed of the honors being showered upon him and his crew by this visit of a foreign nobleman.
“Aw, by the way!” exclaimed his lordship, with a sudden effort of memory, “where’s Manning? I heard before I left the other side that your captain’s name was Manning, don’t you know!”
“Manning? Oh, he has left college, and gone on some paper or other as a reporter,” answered Ben Watkins. “I shouldn’t wonder if he was out there on that boat now,” he added, with the expectation that his lordship would be so disgusted at this intelligence as to take no further interest in Manning.
To his amazement Lord Steerem expressed great pleasure at learning that the person for whom he had inquired was so near at hand. He even went so far as to say that, from all he had heard on the other side, he believed Manning to be the only man in this country who really knew how to row. Then, declaring that their late captain was the person of all others whom he particularly wished to meet, he bade his entertainers a curt farewell, and, springing aboard his launch, ordered the captain to run out to the press-boat.
As this craft was but a short distance from the X—— float, a few turns of the screw sent the launch alongside of her, and its captain inquired if a gentleman named Manning was on board.
When Myles was pointed out to him he presented Lord Steerem’s compliments and asked if Mr. Manning would kindly come on board the launch for a few minutes, as his lordship had something of importance to communicate to him in private.
Greatly wondering at this, and not at all desiring to meet Lord Steerem, but thinking that he might possibly obtain some facts of interest for his paper by so doing, Myles complied with this request.
In the meanwhile the other reporters were gazing eagerly at the launch, noting the trim appearance of her crew, and trying to get a good look at Lord Steerem, who was partially concealed within the little pilot-house.
The moment Myles stepped on board the dainty craft she was cast loose from the press-boat, and as she began to move ahead at full speed her colors were hauled down. A moment later an American yacht ensign was run up on the after jack-staff, while from the one at the bow a broad silken banner inscribed in large golden letters, The Phonograph, was flung to the evening breeze. This name also appeared, as if by magic, on the black ribbons that encircled the new straw hats of the crew. At the same instant Lord Steerem stepped from the pilot-house, and, snatching the dark mustache from his face, exclaimed in the well-known voice of Billings, the Phonograph reporter: