CHAPTER XIV
TIM’S FATHER
The “Boojum” and the little “Sabrina” dropped anchor in the harbor at Nantucket Island almost at the same time. They found themselves in the midst of a fleet of trig catboats, yawls and splendid motor yachts. Every male in the island is said to have some sort of boat, and the catboat seemed to be the choice of the majority. There is a stretch of land-locked water reaching along one side of the island, and here, every day, are to be seen races between the many catboats.
Boat after boat slid in, found its mooring, and emptied itself of its gay-sweatered, picnicking crowd. The boats were so packed and wedged in that the “Boojum’s” people began to wonder how they could pick their way into shore with the tender.
Suddenly a speed boat shot out from the landing in front of the club house and with marvelous skill threaded its way among the moored boats. As it approached the “Boojum,” a tall gray-haired man, who was standing at the wheel, raised one hand and waved it at the group on the “Boojum’s” deck.
“Why, he seems to be coming up alongside,” Mr. Wing said in surprise.
“Ahoy on board the ‘Boojum!’” boomed the man’s deep voice.
“Come aboard,” invited Mr. Wing with a cordial smile and a bewildered voice.
“It’s Tim’s father, of course,” said Frances, springing forward to greet him. “They look exactly alike. Jane, run down into the saloon and tell Tim his daddy is here.”
But Mr. Reynolds, with a Tim-like grin that included them all in its heartiness, said: