e
cook!"

Vee says it was Miss Hampton.

"Wha-a-at?" says he, starin'. "Not really?"

Miss Hampton comes back at him with that quirky smile of hers. "Why the
intense surprise?" says she.

"But I didn't dream," says Mr. Robert, "that you ever did anything
so--er----"

"Commonplace?"

"Early-Victorian," he corrects.

"Cook?" says she. "Oh, dear, yes! I can wash dishes, too."

"Can you?" says he. "I'm fine at wiping 'em."

"Such conceit!" says she.

"Then I'll prove it," says he, "right after dinner."

"I'll help you, Robert," says Marjorie.

"My dear sister," says he, "please consider the size of the _Pyxie's_
galley."

So, as there didn't seem to be any more competition, after we'd finished
everything in sight we left the two of 'em joshin' away merry, doin' the
dishes. Later on, while Ferdie's pokin' around, he makes a discovery.

"Oh, I say, Bob," he calls down, "there's a box up here that hasn't been
opened. Groceries, I think. Come have a look at it."

Mr. Robert he takes one glance and turns away disgusted. "No," says he.
"I know what's in there. No use at all on this trip." Then, as he passes
me he whispers: "I say, when you get a chance, chuck that box overboard,
will you?"

I nods, grinnin', and explains confidential to Vee.

And half an hour or so afterwards, ten perfectly good volumes of Bernard
Shaw splashed overboard.

Next we sends Ferdie to take a peek down the companionway and report.

"They're looking at a chart," says he.

"Same side of the table," says I, "or opposite?"

"Why, they're both on one side."

"Huh!" says I, nudgin' Vee. "That highbrow line might work out in time,
but for a quick get-together proposition I'm backin' the dishpan."

CHAPTER XVIII

WHEN ELLA MAY CAME BY

Believe me, this job of bein' private sec. all day and doublin' as
assistant Cupid after hours may be entertainin' and all that, but it
ain't any drowsy detail. Don't leave you much time for restin' your
heels high or framin' up peace programmes. Course, the fact that Vee is
in with me on this affair between Mr. Robert and Miss Hampton is a help.
I ain't overlookin' that.

And after our mix-up yachtin' cruise, when we lost a mast and Bernard
Shaw overboard the same day, it looked like we'd got everything all
straightened out. Why not? Mr. Robert seems to have decided that his
lady-love wa'n't such a confirmed highbrow as he'd suspected, and he was
doin' the steady comp'ny act constant