"I’d ruther be erstride o’ Ginger." He met her smile with a sidelong glance and looked again with apprehension at the flapping canvas. "But Jake ’lowed I’d git used to it." "Who is Jake?" inquired Stratton. "Jake?" Lem relaxed his grip on the rail, for the _Phantom_ settled steadily. "Jake? He’s my cousin; Samanthy’s brother. An’ he’s be’n clear ter British Columby. He went over oncet fur ther Queen o’ Victory’s birthday." "And he had a great time, I’ll wager," said Kingsley, coming back to the helm. "Yes, but he counted on seeing ther Queen. He ’lowed she’d be to ther head o’ ther parade, ’ith her gold crown on, an’ ther rest o’ her fine truck." "And wasn’t she?" "Naw, she wa’n’t ther. Aunt Lucindy ’lowed ther hull thing was er fizzle; but then she counted on bringin’ back er lot o’ goods; cloth an’ hats an’ shoes; I dunnot what all. You kin get ’em twice as cheap over to Victory ef you don’t hev ter pay no duty. An’ she made errangements ’ith ther neighbors ter do buyin’ fur em." "And," said Kingsley, "I suppose she made other arrangements to elude the Customs officers?" "Ef you mean she laid out ter fool ther Gov’ment men, you’re right. She made er mattress ter fit over ther one on the steamboat, an’ she filled it ’ith ther goods. But they was too sharp fur her. Fust thing she knew ther boss was haulin’ off ther covers, an’ er rippin’ open that ther tick. An’ he poured ther stuff all out onter ther cabin floor, ’ith ther hull crowd lookin’ on; an’ Jake says they laughed like all purzest. An’ he took the goods,—Jake ’lowed he kept ther pile,—’ith Aunt Lucindy er cryin’ an’ er takin’ on." "But it was smuggling, Lem," said the teacher in dismay. "I hadn’t believed a Myers could do a dishonorable thing." Lem threw back his head and narrowed his ferret eyes. "You kin jes’ bet er Myers ain’t er goin’ ter let er good chancet slip; not ef he knows it; no, ma’am." He thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned back comfortably in his seat. But if the temporary ease of the yacht had lulled his apprehensions they were speedily revived by a lurch that carried away his hat and enveloped his head in spume. He sprang to his feet, spluttering, clutching at the helm, losing his foothold on the slanting deck, while the _Phantom_ raced down before the sudden flaw. "Why, Lem, it’s all right, there isn’t a bit of danger. And you shall have a new hat." The teacher placed a dry cushion and drew him down into his seat. She wrapped him in a shawl, pulling it snugly over his head, and he cuddled in it like a frightened squirrel, making a peephole for his small, bright eyes.