New England -- Juvenile fiction; Sailing -- Juvenile fiction; Sea stories
Oscar cleared his throat and frowned. "You'd have to pay a lot for a
cook," he said. "It isn't hard, really. I could do it--if I were going
along."
"That's so," George Hanford confirmed. But the rest seemed
unflatteringly doubtful. The silence was almost embarrassing. At last
Joe said hurriedly:
"Well, we don't have to decide that now. Besides, if you can't come with
us--um--" His voice trailed off into a relieved silence. Oscar smiled
haughtily.
"That's all right," he said. "If you prefer a cook, say so. Only, if I
did go I'd be willing to do the cooking, and I'll bet I could do it as
well as any cook you could hire. Isn't it so, Han?"
"Yes, I call you a mighty nifty cook, Ossie. I've eaten your biscuits
more than once. Flapjacks, too."
"Well," said Joe politely, "camp cooking is um--different, I guess, from
regular cooking. Of course, I don't say Ossie couldn't do it, mind you,
but--we wouldn't want to take chances. On the whole, I think it would be
best to have a regular cook."
"We might let Ossie try it," suggested Perry judicially.
"Oh, I'm not crazy about it," disclaimed Oscar, piqued. "If you prefer
to pay out good money for a cook--"
"Not at all," interrupted Steve soothingly. "We want to do the whole
thing as cheaply as we can. I see no harm in leaving the cooking end of
it to you, Brazier; that is, if you can go."
"I'm going to make a big try for it," declared Oscar resolutely. "If my
folks won't let me, they--they'll wish they had!"
Whereupon, emboldened by Oscar's stand, Neil Fairleigh expressed the
conviction that he, too, could manage it some way. "I dare say that if I
tell my dad that all you chaps are going he will think it's all right.
It wouldn't be for all Summer, anyway, would it?"
"The idea now," responded Steve, "is to start out for a month's cruise
and extend it if we cared to. I suppose any of us that got tired could
quit after the month was up." He smiled. "We'd all have to sign-on for a
month, though."
"Right-o," agreed Hanford. "What about electing officers? Oughtn't we to
do that? Someone ought to be in charge, I should think."
"Sure!" exclaimed Joe. "We'll ballot. Throw that pad over here, Ossie."
"Wait a minute," said Steve. "I've been thinking, fellows. The
_Cockatoo_ will hold six comfortably. The main cabin has berths for four
and the owner's cabin for two, but if I'm not mistaken the berths in the
owner's cabin are extension, and if they are we could bunk three fellows
in there, or even four at a pinch. That would give us room for seven or
eight in all. Eight might make it a bit crowded, but she's a big, roomy
boat and I think we could do with seven fellows all right. And seven's a
lucky number, too. So suppose we take in one more while we're at it?"
"The more the merrier," agreed Joe. "Who have you got in mind?"
Steve shook his head. "No one, but I guess we can think of a fellow.
There's--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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