The boy threw a sweeping glance lake-ward before replying, “Makin' fast.” “That 'll do for you. There won't be no start _this_ afternoon.” “But Cap' Smiley said--” “None o' your lip, or I 'll Cap' Smiley you. “Pretty ugly, out there, all right enough,” observed a riverman. “Cornin' up worse, too. Give you a stiff time with all that stuff aboard.” “I ain't so sure about that,” said Roche, with a swagger. “If _I_ was cap'n o' this schooner, she'd start on the minute, but Smiley's one o' your fair-weather sort.” “Sure he is. He done a heap o' talkin' about that time he brung the _William Jones_ into Black Lake before the wind, the day the _John T. Eversley_ was lost; but Billy Underdown was sailin' with him then, and he told me hisself that he had the wheel all the way--Smiley never done a thing but hang on to the companionway and holler at him to look out for the north set o' the surf outside the piers; and there's my little Andy that ain't nine year old till the sixth o' September, could ha' told him the surf sets south off Black Lake, with a northwest wind. If it hadn't been for Billy, the Lord only knows where Dick Smiley'd be to-day.” A tug hand had joined the group, and now he addressed himself to Roche. “Cap'n Peters wants to know if you're a-goin' to try to make it, Mr. Roche.” “Not by a dam' sight.” “Well--I guess he won't be sorry to wait till mornin'. What time do you think you 'll want us?” “Six o'clock sharp.” “Them's Cap'n Smiley's orders, is they?” “Them's _my_ orders, and they're good enough for you.” “Oh, that's all right, of course, only Cap'n Peters, he said if 'twas anybody else, he'd just tie up and wait, but there ain't never any tellin', he says, what Dick Smiley 'll take it into his head to do.” “You tell your cap'n that Mr. Roche said to come at six in the mornin'.” “All right. I 'll tell him. Say--Cap'n Smiley ain't anywhere around, is he?” “_No, Cap'n Smiley ain t anywheres around!_” mimicked Roche, angrily. “If you want to know whereabouts Cap'n Smiley is, he's uptown skylarkin', that's where _he_ is.” The river hands laughed at this. “I reckon he's somethin' of a hand for the ladies, Dick Smiley is, with them blue eyes o' his'n,” said one. “I ain't a-tellin', you understand, but there's boys in town here that could let you know a thing or two if they was minded.” As a matter of fact, Dick was at that moment in an up-town jewellery shop, fingering a necklace of coral. “I want a longer one,” he was saying, “with something pretty hanging on the end of it--there, that's the boy--the one with big rough beads and the red rose carved on the end.” “Must be somebody's birthday, Captain,” observed the jeweller, with a wink. And Dick, who could never resist a wink, replied: “That's what. Day after to-morrow, too, and I haven't any too much time to make it in.” “Here's a nice piece--if she likes the real red.”