“Down the bay, fishing,” answered Harvey.
“Great!” cried Mr. Carleton. “Bring her up a minute, and I’ll come aboard and make the trip with you.”
Harvey looked at Henry Burns inquiringly.
Henry Burns glanced back at Mr. Carleton, but without altering the course of the yacht.
“Good-bye,” he called, pleasantly. “Sorry, but we’ve got a full crew. Couldn’t pay you high enough wages, anyway. Next trip, perhaps. Good-bye, fellows.”
Mr. Carleton watched the yacht, footing it fleetly southward; and there was a look of genuine disappointment on his face.
“Never mind,” said Joe Hinman, “come along with us. We’re off for a little cruise ourselves, in the morning. We’d like to have you go.”
“No, thanks,” replied Mr. Carleton. “I think I will wait ashore this trip—yes, I will go, too,” he said in the next breath. “I tell you where we will go. We’ll sail down to Stoneland. I haven’t been down that far yet. I’m with you.”
“All right,” said Joe. As a matter of fact, he had not contemplated so long a trip until the sails had been fully stretched and fitted under Captain Sam’s eye. But there was something positive about Mr. Carleton’s assertion. He said it with an assurance that seemed to take it for granted that that settled it. So Joe good-naturedly acquiesced.
“By the way,” said Mr. Carleton the next morning, when they had met outside Rob Dakin’s store, “have you got a chart of these waters aboard?”