"But we are going on a pretty long trip, and for a time we'll all be alone on board the Mary Ellen, some distance from land," Ruth said. "I know, for I've read the outlines."
"Is that so, Miss? Why—I—I didn't exactly know that. I wonder if I'd better——"
Before Jack Jepson could continue Mr. Pertell turned back and called:
"Oh, I believe I forgot to tell you people, but we are also to have a motorboat in connection with the Mary Ellen. A big, powerful gasoline craft, she is, called the Ajax. She'll follow us, part of the time, for some of the pictures have to be taken from a distance, as she trails along at the stern. We'll have plenty of time for rehearsal, though."
"Ah, a motorboat to follow us. Then there isn't so much danger," said Jack Jepson, and he seemed talking to himself.
"Danger!" exclaimed Ruth. "What do you mean by that?"
"Danger? Did I say danger, Miss?" he asked, and again Ruth was surprised at the strange look on his face.
"You certainly did say it," she replied.
"Well, I didn't mean it," he said, though he spoke with an obvious effort. "I meant it would be much more company—company for you folks as aren't used to sailin' the seas. That's all, Miss. Oh, no, there's no real danger—that is there won't be to you, as long as old Jack Jepson can ward it off," he murmured under his breath.
The little party went back to the studio, and, after lunch, some of the easiest and less important scenes in the marine drama were rehearsed. Sailor Jack soon understood what was wanted of him, and did very well. Ruth and Alice took pleasure in coaching the honest, simple old salt. His too-conscientious scruples about doing a seemingly wrongful act were overcome when it was explained to him, and he went through the scene in the studio shipping office very well.