Eleanor laughed as she patted Tom on the back. “That’s a good boy! Go to the head of the class!”
Just as a taxi drove recklessly up to the wharf, the whistle on the yacht blew a terrific blast. Every one glanced apprehensively at the pilot house to see what this meant. Surely the Captain had no intentions of leaving then and there! Mr. Dalken was seen to hurry to the Captain’s room to inquire into the unexpected signal.
John and Anne hurried on board and were soon surrounded by welcoming friends, Polly the center of the group. All concern over the whistle was forgotten in the gossip about the gold mine and all the doings at Pebbly Pit Ranch. Anne had many packages to deliver to Polly from her mother, and John had advices galore from her father.
At a second warning call from the ear-splitting siren Mr. Dalken came hurrying from the Captain’s room. His face expressed impatience as he joined his friends. They paused in their noisy conversation to hear what he wished to say.
“Captain Blake tells me that the pilot he has on board to take us out as far as Sandy Hook declares he will leave this boat unless he can get started at once. He avers that he is losing the tide, as well as other jobs he signed up for. If he leaves us that means we will have to delay our start until to-morrow,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Oh, no, no!” sounded from several young throats, as their owners crowded about Mr. Dalken to give good reasons why they should start at once.
“But we just got here!” cried John in a disappointed tone.
“That’s your loss—you ought to collect damages from the Twentieth Century Limited,” retorted Eleanor.
“Oh, if only John and Anne would remain on board with us and go as far as Jacksonville, where we expect to touch to pick up Nolla’s father!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
“Say, John, that’s a capital idea! Why not do it?” asked Mr. Dalken, quickly.