“Be careful of it, Dean,” admonished the judge. “The check is for eight thousand dollars, and is to pay the balance on the boat. You will attend to this part of your business immediately upon reaching the city and take possession of the boat.” “I understand, sir. But I did not know I was to go alone.” “Well, not exactly. While I cannot go, as I had planned, I have a man to accompany you. You see, it was necessary to find a man to captain our boat, so I sent to my lawyers to find me a man. He found us a full set, crew and officers. One of them, at least, is a study for the character reader. His name is Jack Carboy, and he is to be the man at the wheel. Ha! here he comes! Note how he speaks of our lake as a mud puddle, and----” Before Judge Oglesby had finished his sentence, the object of his remarks, a typical tar of sailing days on the sea, entered the room with the peculiar rolling gait of one used to a life upon shipboard. “Shiver my toplights, admiral, ’tain’t every watch-eend ol’ Jack sets by sich a feast. Ahoy! what strange craft is this?” The last words spoken in an interrogative tone as the speaker caught sight of Dean. “Your new commander, who is to manage our enterprise,” said the judge. “Mr. Mercer, allow me to introduce to you Mr. Jack Carboy, who----” “Avast there! who dubs this ol’ salt a ‘mister’? Reef yer flying jib and give ol’ Jack Carboy his due. Pardin’, sir,” he quickly added, executing an admirable naval salute, “I didn’t know it was the high admiral.” “Your pardon, Jack,” said the judge good naturedly. “If your new captain is young, he is quick to learn.” “So he’s the skipper, is he?” “Yes, Jack.” Carboy tugged at a stray lock at his brow and scraped his foot backward in grotesque politeness. “Captain, sir!” he said half inquiringly. “No, no!” laughed Dean. “Yes, yes!” replied the judge spiritedly. “He’ll need a little posting, Jack, but you and he must combine efforts and help each other along.” “We’ll do that, sir!” cried Carboy. “His eye tells me that I shall like him. As to bossing the boat, that’s mere jaw work. It’s the man at the wheel that is the real genius of the boat. That’s me, ho! ho!” Judge Oglesby talked with the twain for about five minutes. “Now, then,” he said, “we understand just what is to be done, don’t we?” “I think so, sir,” replied Dean. “The men to man the new steamer are waiting for us at Springfield.” “Exactly. You will find the _Spray_ all ready for you.” “What’s that--what’s that, sir?” cried Carboy, with a start of dismay. “The _Spray_.” “Is that the name of the steamer?” “It is.” “Sorry!” and Jack shook his head lugubriously. “Why, Jack?” exclaimed the amazed judge. “It’s a bad name.” “Bad name?” “Yes.” “How so, Jack?” “Because I’ve sailed on two _Sprays_--one to Australia, one to China, and both were wrecked at sea.” Judge Oglesby smiled at Carboy’s superstitious fears. “This is a lake, Jack,” he said reassuringly. But Carboy looked glum.