“I just reckon we have, honey. It’s below deck, of course; somewhere beknownst to old Steve; he stowed it away carefully. Why, do you want it?�
She turned to me happily. “Wouldn’t it be just great to paddle over to the beach yonder?� she cried. “Why, we might even catch some fish, Mr. Grey.�
I glanced at Stroth, who smiled back meaningly.
“I’m afraid we’d be sort of deserters, and——â€� I began.
“Oh, shucks! Daddy, we couldn’t help fix the schooner, anyway, could we? We’d just be in the way, wouldn’t we?�
Stroth replied easily:
“Well, honey, I don’t want Grey, here, to take it as a slight, but I really don’t think he could be of much service, for we’ve plenty of men. And so that is not at all a bad suggestion.�
“Ah, you hear that, Mr. Grey?� she cried delightedly, tossing down her napkin. “Come on, let’s get old Steve!�
As she quitted the doorway, and before she turned to see if I were following, I questioned her father with a look, and got another nod of approval. He certainly was putting my liberty on my honor.
Old Steve chuckled joyously at her request, and it wasn’t ten minutes before a light and graceful canvas canoe was bobbing alongside the starboard landing stairs. And the old bo’s’n added this suggestion to the fishing part of the picnic: