“These,” remarked Captain Bunderley—he indicated the ports—“are provided with heavy plate glass and can be so locked as to make them practically water-tight. With ordinary windows, after a heavy sea has been pounding against the boat for several hours, the cabin would probably be in a mess.” Walking across the floor, he opened a door. “Let me introduce you to the engine room and galley.”
“Phil’s the galley-slave,” confided Victor, in a loud whisper.
“Who’s the engineer, captain?” asked Bob.
“Jack Stubbs, a sailor I had with me on many a sea voyage. Martin Ricks is the helmsman.”
“Now, uncle, please show the bunch your stateroom,” put in Victor.
The captain led them to a passageway abaft the engine room, presently stepping into a compartment finished in enamel white.
“This is enough to make even me feel like becoming a skipper,” commented Dave.
“If only it weren’t so dreadfully dangerous,” ventured Charlie Blake.
“Certainly would be with him as skipper,” piped Victor.
Out in the open air again the crowd found an awning extending from the stern to a point where the raised deck began. Dave expressed the opinion that it must be very delightful to sit there on a pleasant day, with the water sparkling in the sunlight and a gentle breeze sighing past.