The night was clear and the wind light. As the effects of his libations wore off the skipper had some misgivings as to the wisdom of his action, but it was too late to return, and he resolved to carry on.
Looking at all the circumstances of the case he thought it best to keep the wheel in his own hands for a time, and the dawn came in the early hours and found him still at his post.
Objects began to stand out clearly in the grow-ing light, and three dispirited girls put their heads out from the blankets and sniffed disdainfully at the sharp morning air. Then after an animated discussion they arose, and casting their blankets aside, walked up to the skipper and eyed him thoughtfully.
“As easy as easy,” said Jenny Evans confidently, as she drew herself up to her full height, and looked down at the indignant man.
“Why, he isn’t any bigger than a boy,” said Miss Williams savagely.
“Pity we didn’t think of it before,” said Miss Davies. “I s’pose the crew won’t help him?”
“Not they,” said Miss Evans scornfully. “If they do, we’ll serve them the same.”
They went off, leaving the skipper a prey to gathering uneasiness, watching their movements with wrinkled brow. From the forecastle and the galley they produced two mops and a broom, and he caught his breath sharply as Miss Evans came on deck with a pot of white paint in one hand and a pot of tar in the other.
“Now, girls,” said Miss Evans.
“Put those things down,” said the skipper in a peremptory voice.