We had left the bay and were standing well out from the coast, when I happened to glance over the rail and notice a small launch coming toward us from the harbor at full speed. They were unable to signal from that distance, but I brought a powerful glass and soon made out the form of Uncle Naboth standing upright in the middle of the little craft and gracefully waving a red handkerchief.
I had Ned luff and lay to, laughing to think how nearly the little uncle had missed us, and before long the launch covered the distance between us and came alongside.
Uncle Naboth was gorgeous in appearance. He was dressed in a vividly checked suit and wore a tourist cap perched jauntily atop his iron-gray locks. His shirt bosom was wonderfully pleated, his shoes of shiny patent-leather, and he wore yellow kid gloves that wrinkled dreadfully. Moreover—the greatest wonder of all, to me—my uncle was smoking a big, fat cigar instead of his accustomed corn-cob pipe, and he had a kodak slung over one shoulder and a marine-glass over the other.
First of all my uncle sent his traps up the side. Then he began a long but calm argument with the crew of the launch, who were greatly excited, and this might have continued indefinitely had not Ned become impatient and yelled a warning that he was about to tack. At this Uncle Naboth thrust some money in the hand of the skipper and leisurely ascended the ladder while a chorus of curses and threats fell upon his unheeding ears.
“Nearly missed you, Sam, didn’t I?” he said, nodding cheerfully as the sails filled and we headed into the breeze again. “Close shave, but no alum or bay-rum.”
“What made you late, Uncle?”
“Had to do a lot to git my outfit ready,” he said, puffing his cigar, smoothing out his gloves and at the same time casting a critical eye over the deck. “First time in my life, nevvy, that I’ve went to sea on a pleasure-trip. No business to look after, no worry, no figgerin’. Jest sailin’ away o’er the deep blue sea with a jolly crew is the life for me. Eh, Sam?”
“Right you are, Uncle. You’re just a passenger, and a mighty welcome one. I’m glad you caught us.”
“Stern chase, but not a long one. What do you s’pose, Sam? I had to pay them pirates in that half-grown steamboat thirty dollars to get me aboard.”
“Thirty dollars!”