The sailing-party disembarked at the landing steps of the "Princess" shortly after six o'clock, and were greeted by a tall young man whose face was almost concealed by the broad brim of his hat, turned down as if to protect its owner from possible prostration from the sun. At the opposite end of the young man the white trouser-legs were turned up at least two laps higher than would have been expected, so that hat and trousers together made a normal average. Below the turn-up of the trousers showed a considerable expanse of white-silk hosiery, terminating in spotless white buckskin shoes; below the down-turned hat-brim was a grin which extended well across the boyish face. Altogether, the young man warranted the attention he attracted.
The skipper made so perfect a landing that the identity of those on board was disclosed only at the last moment; but the single glance the young man had was sufficient to reassure him, and he stepped forward eagerly.
"Hello, everybody!" he cried cheerfully. "Wish you Happy New-Year!"
Merry was the first to grasp the significance of the excitement. "Why, it's Billy Huntington!" she exclaimed.
"Of course," he admitted, still grinning; "who else would charge down here like a young dace just for the pleasure of wishing you the compliments of the season?"
The young man paused long enough to assist the ladies over the rail, with a greeting to each.
"There's your uncle," Merry said, nodding in the direction of the men; "don't you recognize him?"
"Surest thing you know," Billy answered, still hanging back. "I'm waiting to see if he will recognize me, under all the circumstances."
"Come here, you young rascal," Huntington responded to the implied question as he stepped on the pier; "come here and give an account of yourself."
"Well," Billy replied slowly, clinging to the extended hand as a refuge, "you see I didn't know Mr. Cosden came down with you, and it was vacation, and I thought you'd be awfully lonely here without me—"