Next morning when the company appeared they were not a little surprised to find themselves far out to sea. The day was bright and all hands were in a cheerful mood. The first question asked of the energetic manager was "Where next?" He turned toward the inquirer and replied he never discussed business on an empty stomach when he had the opportunity of doing so on a full one.
"Lay her course south by east, cap," was his brief order to the sailing master. "Rather fancy we'll run in somewhere near Oyster Bay—where, I'll tell you later on."
When breakfast was served ample justice was done to the repast. Here, be it said, the company lived well. The best the market afforded was not too good for them. Handy was as capable a judge of a beefsteak as any man on the boards, and he bought the best. His companions knew it, and were willing at all times to go with a commission to the shop.
"Were you ever in the market, governor?" inquired the Little 'Un at the close of the meal.
"Yes, sir. I have frequently been in the market," was the prompt reply, "but like many other willing and anxious individuals somehow or other, no one ever reached my price."
"Oh, I didn't mean that, old man. I simply meant were you ever employed in a meat market, for that was as nice a piece of steak as I ever tackled, it was so tender and juicy. Unless a fellow was a judge he never could have picked out such a choice cut."
"Oh, I did not quite comprehend you! I now catch on. Well, you all, of course, know that I served in the army and——"
"I told you," whispered Smith, in a humorous aside, "he was a butcher."
"And, as I was about to remark, I had much experience in the commissariat depart——"
"Say," interposed the Little 'Un, who had frequently been an unwilling and tired listener to very many of Handy's well-worn war stories, "are you agoing to ring in a war story on us, old pard?"