"It'll never do! It'll never do!" Jack Jepson was saying. "It's criminal wrong, that's what it is. But I'll jest keep a sharp watch, an' at the first sign of danger, I'll—"
Then he heard the footfall of Alice on the deck, and turned quickly. He smiled at her, and the smile was in strange contrast to his rather ominous words. As Alice knew very little about the sea or boats, she paid no attention.
"I came to bid you good-bye," she said. "We are going back to New York now, but we'll soon be aboard here for a long stay, I hope. My, how nice everything looks!"
"Yes, but it—it's too nice!" exclaimed Jack.
"Too nice? What do you mean?" she asked wonderingly.
"Oh, well, nothing, Miss Alice. You wouldn't understand. I'm glad to see you. This isn't a mate's work, properly speakin'," he said, as he indicated the box of polish, "but then we haven't started discipline yet. We'll do that at sea."
"And I'll hope we'll soon be out on the deep," voiced Alice.
A week later the entire moving picture company that was to take part in the marine drama assembled at the dock where the Mary Ellen had been refitted for her last voyage. Stores and provisions had been put aboard, the Ajax lay stowed in the cradle on deck, and the members of the company, the moving picture operators and the manager and his assistants, had sent their baggage aboard. There was plenty of extra film.
"All aboard!" called Captain Brisco, and the gangplank was about to be hauled in. "All aboard! We won't wait for him!" he went on, speaking to the first mate and to Mr. Pertell who stood near him.
"Won't wait for whom?" Alice heard Mr. Pertell ask.