"You surely are well preserved," Belinda said flatteringly.
"'Preserved'! I'm pickled, Miss Melnotte. Pickled in salt brine and salt air. And nothin' must do—there wasn't any comfort for me—till I'd promised them three darters that I wouldn't sail a ship on the sea again. But," said I, "you can't keep me off the water. I'll take no active part; but the feel of deck planks under my feet I must have once in a while."
"They agreed to that," chuckled Captain Dexter. "Thought I'd be satisfied, I s'pose, to take a trip now and again on a canal-boat! By Hannah! they don't know where I am now—and won't know till some time to-morrow when the rural mail carrier gets to Penelope's house. She's the first one of the three on his route out of Old Saybrook."
"Why, then, you've run away!" exclaimed Belinda.
"Run away?" the captain snorted. "Me, a shipmaster of forty year standin'? By Hannah! I've given my darters the slip, I do allow. If they had their way with me I'd be wearin' a cap and knittin' tidies on the sunny side of the porch this very minute.
"I'm goin' across," concluded Captain Dexter, "to see something of this war. They can't scare me with talk about German raiders nor submarines. The way it looks to me, them undersea boats are only play-toys. They might sneak up on a ship's heels and do some damage; but mostly they wouldn't stand a show in an open fight with a craft like this, if she's properly handled."
"Oh, I hope we shall not meet a submarine!" the girl said earnestly.
"Well, I dunno as I can join you there, Miss," and the old shipmaster's grin was a good deal like that of a mischievous boy. "I've always wanted to see all the new things as they came out—telegraph, telephone, automobiles, these flying machines and all of Edison's wonders. Now I'd like to clap my old eyes on one o' these U-boats, as they call 'em—and see it in action, too!"