“The time required to go from New Zealand back to the States does not vary much,” the captain answered, “and I think I can promise you, Miss Blake, that the trip will not greatly exceed ninety days. We have made a good run nearly every day so far, and ought to pick up the southeast trades next week.” “Even if the voyage should require four months, it would be nothing dreadful, Laura. We seamen do not mind a few days more or less, do we, Captain?” said the widow. Carl Bohlman, the portly mate, seemed a little surprised at this reckless disregard of time, while Captain Maxwell stroked his beard and looked rather doubtful. “Perhaps not, madam. Your wide experience enables you to judge of such matters. I remember one time, though, when your late husband had the _Davy Crockett_, and I commanded the _Sunrise_, we were racing from Hong Kong to New York; and I can assure you that every minute and every hour were of the utmost importance. We both passed St. Helena on the fifty-eighth day out, but the _Sunrise_ was beaten on the home stretch by twenty-four hours.” “How exciting!” exclaimed Mrs. Evans. “Think of it—racing clear around the world! That was before I met my husband, but I have often heard him mention the affair.” “It must be dangerous, Aunt. We have the pretty Cape pigeons to race with, which satisfies me perfectly. How sorry I shall be when we see the last of them.” “You are timid, Laura, which is excusable in one of your limited experience. You have crossed the Atlantic twice, but running over from New York to Liverpool is a mere bagatelle. Crossing the Pacific is something, to be sure; but when you have doubled both Capes, and crossed the Line six times—well, then you can lay claim to being a sailor, and will not be easily alarmed.” The widow glanced from one to the other and settled back in her chair with pardonable pride, after giving this account of her achievements. She was rewarded with a bow from Captain Maxwell, who then said: “To change the subject, Mrs. Evans, you must have been very busy this morning. Unless I am mistaken, we have been deprived of your society since breakfast.” “That is true, Captain. I have been putting the finishing touches on that rug, which I consider quite an addition to the cabin furniture. After that, I wrote for some time—and ah! that reminds me. I feel certain that the fresh-water tank in the bathroom has again been filled with salt water. While endeavoring to remove an ink-stain from my fingers, I found that the soap made no impression. That careless boy seems unable to remember which tank is for fresh water, and which for salt.” The captain frowned. “This is the second time since leaving port that Dick has made the same mistake. When I have worked out my sights, the matter shall be attended to.” “That Dick Lewis needs a rope’s end,” observed the mate, as soon as Captain Maxwell had gone below, “and if the captain would let me, I’d give it to him.”