“Thank you, George, for that comforting remark. I was really getting worried myself about the Mermaid,” observed Nick.
“Listen to Buster, would you, fellows?” cried Josh. “I never thought he’d go back on the girls we left behind us, and particularly Rosie!”
But Nick only grinned as they joined in the laugh.
“I’m a privileged character now,” he asserted, stoutly. “A sailor is said to have a best girl in every port, you know, fellows. And every one of you will agree with me that Sallie Bliss is as pretty as a peach.”
“And just your size too, Buster,” declared Herb.
“Look out for an engagement with some dime museum company as the fat”—started Josh; when he had to dodge something thrown at him by the object of this persecution, and the sentence was never completed.
The ground being sandy close to the water, they concluded to start a fire, so as to cook supper ashore, since it was so much more “homey” as Nick said, for them to be together at mealtimes. But all were of the opinion that it would be advisable to sleep on board.
“Another hot squall might spring up during the night,” observed George, “and just fancy our tents going sailing off to sea. Of course I don’t hanker about putting in a night in such cramped quarters as my narrow boat affords; but it can’t come anywhere near what I went through with when Buster was my shipmate, down on the Mississippi.”
“And then somebody ought to go after milk and eggs,” suggested Herb.
“Here, don’t everybody look at me,” Nick bridled up. “I guess it’s the turn of another bunch this time. Josh and myself have served our country as haulers of the necessities.”