"Very likely, young man. Very likely. So I'm helping to keep you out of trouble. That child is pretty enough to give even an old, dried-up heart like mine the faint echo of a stir. Think of the devastation to a young one like yours. Steer clear, young man! Steer clear!"
And the iron-gray one, himself an inveterate sentimentalist, passed on, chuckling over his time-worn device for quickening romance in the heart of the young by the judicious interposition of obstacles. He strolled over to the center of attraction, where he was warmly greeted. To the Wondrous Vision he said something which caused her to glance over at the Tyro. That anxious youth interpreted the look as embodying something of surprise, and—could it be?—a glint of mischief.
"Never mind," said Alderson, "I dare say we can find some way, some time to-day or to-morrow."
"To-morrow!" broke in the Tyro fretfully. "Do you realize that this voyage is only a five-day run?"
"Oh, Youth! Youth!" laughed the older man. "Are you often taken this way, Sandy?"
The Tyro turned upon him the candor of an appealing smile. "Never in my life before," he said. "I give you my word of honor."
"In that case," said his friend, with mock seriousness, "the life-saving expedition will try to get a rescue-line to the craft in distress."
With obvious hope the Tyro's frank eyes interrogated Judge Enderby as he returned from his interview.
"Still of the same mind, young man?"
"Yes, sir."