When finally the Codfish thought his inning was about to come, Marjorie tripped gaily off with the last of her suitors, and after a promenade around the deck, disappeared somewhere below to Gleason's great distress of mind.
That evening Marjorie was again carried off, this time by the Yale half-miler, and the only thing left for the Codfish was to occupy her vacant chair, which he did, and proceeded to make himself agreeable to Mrs. Hasbrouck, though his eyes followed Marjorie on her promenade up and down the deck.
"Mighty attractive girl, that Miss Hasbrouck," said Frank that night as the boys were preparing to retire. "She's made a great hit with the team, did you notice it?"
"Did I notice it?" cried the Codfish petulantly. "Yes, I noticed it. Where in the name of the Great Horn Spoon did she meet all those fellows?"
"Mutual attraction, I s'pose," said Frank. "I saw you holding forth with her mother most of the evening. Charming lady, eh?"
"O, yes, all right. Interested in philanthropy and all that sort of thing. Wanted me to help her raise something for the Widows and Orphans Fund for Sailors; subscription papers, and all that sort of thing."
"And you're for it?"
"O, yes, Marjorie's mother you see. Couldn't do anything else. I've got to stand in right with her mother."
"Noble youth," said Frank. "First catch the mother and the daughter will come easy. Is that it?"
"You have a glimmer of intelligence, Armstrong, a rare thing in your case."