"Hurry, father," screamed the little girl, "or she'll get you."
A slap on the mouth silenced her and set the boy wailing dismally. The boy was accustomed to howl without provocation. He kicked his mother until she let him down. By this time they could discern only Maurie's head bobbing in the distant water. Presently he clambered up the dock and ran dripping toward the city, disappearing among the buildings.
"Madam," said Uncle John, sternly, "you have cost us the best chauffeur we ever had."
She did not understand English, but she shook her fist in Mr. Merrick's face and danced around in an elephantine fashion and jabbered a stream of French.
"What does she say?" he asked Patsy, who was laughing merrily at the absurd scene.
"She demands to be put ashore at once. But shall we do that, and put poor Maurie in peril of being overtaken?"
"Self preservation is the first law of nature, my dear," replied Uncle John. "I'm sorry for Maurie, but he alone is responsible. Henderson," he added, turning to the sailor, "put this woman ashore as soon as possible. We've had enough of her."