Olivia made no reply, but turned and swam to the launch. Elizabeth was climbing aboard, and sat in her old place on the deck, her feet dangling.
"Was it a good show, Jack?"
"It was worthy of you, Elizabeth. I can't give any higher praise. Thank you very much. You have given me a great deal of pleasure. You are always giving other people pleasure. Good-bye."
And he waved his hand to the launch and then to us, and his motor-boat went on her business up the harbor, whatever that business was.
Captain Fergus looked after him thoughtfully.
"Now, I wonder," he remarked, "why he didn't come aboard. He ought to want to see me."
I had got up with him, and we were standing at the gangway. The launch came nosing around, with the two girls enveloped in raincoats. Olivia had recovered her spirits. She stood up, and saluted with a stiff finger.
"Here's a load of lumber for you, Captain Fergus," she said. "Will you have it aboard? Where will you have it stowed?"
Captain Fergus looked grimly at her, and shook his head slowly, but his eyes, looking out from the shadow of the shiny visor of his old blue cap, were pleasant and smiling and humorous. The little wrinkles about them deepened.
"Don't you know better," he growled sternly, "than to bring me wet lumber? I can't take it. You'll have to take it ashore and dry it."