added information that a sailboat under way on the
starboard tack had the right of way over anything afloat--with the
possible exception of a torpedo!--and that other craft had to turn to
port in passing them. Joe had wrested that bit of knowledge from a
volume entitled, "Motor Boats and Boating," which he carried in a side
pocket every minute of the trip, and passed it on with evident pride.
For the next few days he discovered other interesting items in that
precious book and divulged them at intervals with what to Perry seemed
a most offensive assumption of superiority.

"You just read that in your old book," Perry would grumble. "Anybody
could do that!" Nevertheless, he hearkened and remembered against the
time when the conduct of the boat should be handed over to the hands of
the efficient second mate. When Joe became insufferably informative
Perry blandly asked him questions about the engine, such as, "What's the
difference, Joe, between a two-cycle and a four-cycle motor?" or "What
happens when the water-jacket becomes unbuttoned?" and was delighted to
find that Joe lapsed into silence until he had had time to
surreptitiously consult his book.

Today, however, Joe's ignorance of motors mattered not at all, for the
engine ran sweetly and the _Adventurer_ churned through the green water
without a falter. More than once Joe might have been observed gazing
down at the six cylinder-heads surmounted by their maze of wires with an
expression of awe. Joe's thoughts probably might have been put into
words thus: "Yes, I see you doing it, but--but _why?_"

Steve didn't go down to the cabin for dinner, but ate it as best he
could on the bridge. Neil, in his capacity of cabin-boy, arranged a
folding stool beside him, and from that, at intervals between moving the
wheel, blowing the whistle or anxiously scanning the course, Steve
seized his food. The others descended to the main cabin and squeezed
themselves about the table, which, adorned with a cloth of wonderful
sheen and whiteness that bore the cruiser's former name and flag woven
in the centre, held a plentiful supply of canned beans, fried bacon,
potato chips, bread and butter and raspberry jam. Everything was
thrillingly fine, from the pure linen tablecloth and napkins to the
silverware. The plates held the same design that was worked into the
napery, as did even the knives and forks and spoons. Ossie was
apologetic as to the menu, although he need not have been.

"T