"Now, Payne!" protests Mabel. "Just when I'm comfortable!"
"And there isn't any hurry, is there?" asks Vee.
I wa'n't so stuck on buttin' around in the fog myself; so when he asks me to go down and see if the launch is afloat yet, and I finds that she can be pushed off easy, I don't hurry about tellin' him so. Instead I climbs aboard and develops an idea. You see, when I was out with Eb Westcott in his lobster boat the day before I'd noticed him stop the engine just by jerkin' a little wire off the spark plug. Here was a whole bunch of wires, though. Wouldn't do to unhitch 'em all. But along the inside of the boat is a little box affair that they all lead into, with one big wire leadin' out. Looked kind of businesslike, that one did. I unhitches it gentle and drapes it over a nearby screwhead. Then I strolls back and reports that she's afloat.
"Good!" says Payne. "I'll just start the engine and be tuning her up while the girls finish luncheon."
Well, maybe you can guess. I could hear him windin' away at the crankin' wheel, windin' and windin', and then stoppin' to cuss a little under his breath.
"What's the matter?" sings out Mabel.
She was one of the kind that's strong on foolish questions.
"How the blazes should I know?" raps back young Hollister. "I can't start the blasted thing."
"Never mind," says Mabel cheerful. "We haven't finished the sandwiches yet."
Next time I takes a peek Payne has his tool kit spread out and is busy takin' things apart. He's getting' himself all smeared up with grease and oil too. Pity; for he'd started out lookin' so neat and nifty. Meanwhile we'd fed Mabel to the limit, got her propped up with cushions, and she's noddin' contented.