“Tut—tut!” exclaimed the good doctor. “Don’t let that trouble you. That’s all provided for.”
“Oh, no! Really you must let us pay for all that.”
“Did it ever occur to you,” his eyes were twinkling, “that the O Moo might be insured?”
“In—insured!” Marian’s knees gave way. The news was too good to seem true.
“Then, then we can stay?”
“In school, yes, but on the O Moo, probably not. Too much publicity, you see. University people would object and all that, don’t you know. But then, cheer up. I fancy the lady dean is telling Florence of something which will interest you all.”
“In the meantime,” he exclaimed, “we are not getting ashore. Yo-ho, Timmie,” he cupped his hands and shouted, “bring on the rowboats and tackle. Let’s get her brought in.”
CHAPTER XVII
HOT WATER AND A GHOST
It was night. The crowd that had screamed its welcome to the returning O Moo and her crew was gone. A great truck loaded high with Christmas trees had departed with Marie Neighbor bouncing about on top of it.
The three girls were in the cabin of the O Moo. This, they were sure, was to be their last night on board. The lady dean had told Florence that a flat belonging to the university, three rooms, kitchenette and bath, was at their disposal. The rent seemed terribly high to them, but someway they must meet it, since the dean had looked very sternly adown her nose and said, “Of course this sort of thing cannot be gone on with. The university would be scandalized. Besides, there is no telling what may happen to you if you remain here.”