In a space of five minutes, she had helped an old man on crutches, found a child who had become separated from his mother, and refused passage to three young men who sought to make a return trip on the ferry.
“Sorry, this is the end of the line,” she told them firmly. “Our last trip today.”
“Then how about a date?” one of the men teased.
Sally paid not the slightest heed. Raising the gangplank, she signalled for the ferry to pull away.
“Sally always likes to put on a show!” Jack muttered disapprovingly. “To watch her perform, one would think she were the captain!”
“Well, she impresses me as a most capable young lady,” commented Mr. Parker. “After all, we owe our rescue to her and Captain Barker.”
Taking the hint, Jack offered no further disparaging remarks. Rain had ceased to fall, but deep shadows blotted out the river shores. Watching from the railing, Penny saw the island loom up, a dark, compact mass of black.
“The ferry can’t land there?” she inquired in surprise.
Jack shook his head. “Shoals,” he explained briefly. “In the spring during the flood season, the channel is fairly safe. Now—”
He broke off, and turned to stare toward the pilot house. The engines had been stilled and the ferry was drifting in toward the island. Captain Barker stood by his wheel, silent, watchful as a cat.