“I have a perfect complexion,” said Tom gravely. “It is like peaches and cream. Yours is like—like apple sauce.” He bolted for the toilet room and got the door fastened behind him before Dan could reach him. “Looks to me as though we were here for a while,” observed Nelson, glancing through a port at the impenetrable grayness outside. “We can’t go chugging around the place in this fog.” “Maybe it will burn off after a time,” said Bob. “If we get to Newport before dark we can spend the night there. What’s the good of hurrying, anyhow? We haven’t got to get anywhere at any particular time.” “Well, there’s Dan to think of. He’s homesick and wants to get to New York, you know.” “The only thing I want to get is breakfast,” answered Dan. “And I intend to have butter with it, too. Tommy’s got to hike out and find some.” “I won’t!” cried Tom from behind the partition. “I’m cook and don’t have to run errands.” “We’ll see about that,” returned Dan grimly. Tom, who had begun to splash water in the basin again, ceased operations for a moment. “I won’t, I won’t!” he called gleefully. “I’ve mutinied. Down with the captain! I’m going to scuttle the ship in a minute. Anyone seen the scuttle?” “No, but several persons are going to see your finish when you come out,” answered Dan. “We’re going to string you to the yardarm.” “There isn’t any!” “Then we’ll keel-haul you, whatever that is.” “I demand to be put in chains. Then I can’t go for butter.” “We really ought to have a brig,” said Nelson. “What’s that?” asked Tom anxiously. “Can you eat it?” “It’s a place where they confine sailors that don’t behave themselves, a sort of prison cell.” “How would the ice box do?” Bob asked. “Huh,” answered Dan, “that would be a prison cell on us; Tommy would eat up everything in there and then we’d have to knock the box to pieces to get him out.” “Well,” said Tom in an aggrieved voice, “if I can’t be put in chains I refuse to mutiny.” So he went for butter instead. Bob volunteered to start breakfast and Tom got into the tender and paddled off into the fog on his errand. “If I get lost,” he called, “you must blow the whistle so I’ll know where to find you.” “All right,” Nelson answered. “Only you’ll have to let us know.” “Sure; I’ll send you a telegram.” And Tom disappeared whistling gayly. The others finished dressing, and then, while Bob started the fire, found the bacon and sliced bread, made the coffee and set the table, Dan and Nelson pulled the deck awning out of the locker and set about spreading it over the stanchions. It had not been used before on the present trip and it took them some time to solve the intricacies of it. But finally it was in place, Dan had wiped the chairs and seat until they were comparatively dry and Nelson had tended to the lanterns. By that time breakfast was ready and Tom had been gone a full half hour. “How far is the store?” asked Dan impatiently.