Gerald overhauled the flag-locker for Dan’s amusement, played on the pianola, started the talking machine, pulled books from the cases, upset chemicals in the little dark-room, explained the purpose of this thing and that until Dan’s head was in a whirl. And all the time Dan was begrudging every moment he spent away from the deck. At last, when Fisher’s Island was abreast of them, the boys returned to Mr. Pennimore who had long since yielded the duties of host to Gerald and was seated on the rear deck with a magazine in hand. Dan watched the white wake fascinatedly and could scarcely be made to show a proper interest in the points along shore. The wind was blowing keen and crisp from the north and the boys had donned extra coats and laid aside their caps. The Princess cut her way through the green water without the least bit of fuss and the motion was almost imperceptible. But on the homeward course the yacht began to lift her heels a little and dip her white nose into the swells. The boys went forward and leaning over the rail, watched the waves curl and swish past the bow. For awhile Dan feared that he was going to be ill. It wasn’t the prospect of physical discomfort that alarmed him, but like most novices he thought sea-sickness a disgrace and didn’t want his hosts to be ashamed of him. But the first qualms soon passed off and by the time the tower of Oxford Hall was once more in sight at the crest of the hill he was convinced that he was a born sailor!
At five o’clock the big car rolled up to the door and for the better part of an hour Dan sat between Mr. Pennimore and Gerald and was whisked magically along twilighted country roads until he had lost all sense of location. Not that that bothered him any. He was content to sit there, warm and snug under the fur robes, and feel the wind in his face and watch the trees and houses, fields and hillsides roll unceasingly by. Too soon it was all over and he was saying good-night and thanking his hosts on the steps of Clarke, while a group of boys looked curiously and enviously across from the porch of Whitson.
“I’m coming to see you Saturday,” called Gerald as the big car turned around. “Don’t forget!”
“I won’t! And I’ll be over Tuesday if I possibly can. I’ll telephone you, Gerald! Good-night! Good-night, Mr. Pennimore! I had a swell time, sir!”
“Good-night, my boy. Come and see us. Home, Higgins.”
Chug, chug, chug! said the car and then the red light at the rear grew smaller and smaller and dimmer and dimmer as the car dropped down the long hill in the darkness. Dan gave a deep sigh of mingled pleasure and regret and climbed the stairs.
[CHAPTER XVII]
LIGHT BLUE OR DARK?
It was the first week in November and Yardley Hall was football mad. The four class elevens were practicing daily on the stretch of turf south of the tennis courts and applauding partisans, wearing their class colors on their caps, were wrought to heights of frenzied enthusiasm as they followed their teams up and down the field.