chart-house along the fore-and-aft bridge, trim,
quiet-footed, familiar. "What did you find in the Bay?" she would
ask, as she shook hands with Captain Price; and he would answer as to
one who understood: "It was piling up a bit from the sou'west;" or
"smooth enough to skate on," as the case might be. Then, without
further formality, he would return to his papers, and Arthur Price
would hand over his work to the third mate and wash his hands before
coming up to make himself agreeable. He always had more to say about
the trip than his father, and he was prone to translate the weather
into shore speech. Minnie only half liked his fashion of talking of
"storms" and "tempests"; but there was plenty else in him she liked
well enough. Best of all, perhaps, she liked the sight of him--a head
taller than his father, clean-shaven and accurately groomed, smiling
readily and moving easily; he was a capital picture.

She fell into a way of driving down to see the Burdock off. It was
thus that Captain Price learned how matters stood. He came straight
from the office to the ship, on a brisk July day and went off to her
at her buoys in the mud-pilot's boat. All was clear for a start and
the lock was waiting; Arthur Price, in the gold-laced cap he used as
due to his rank, was standing by to cast off. The Captain went
forthwith to the bridge; Minnie on the dock-head could see his black
shore-hat over the weather-cloths and his white collar of ceremony.
She smiled a little, for she did not know quite enough to see the art
with which the Captain drew off from his moorings under his own steam,
nor his splendid handling of the big boat as he bustled her down the
crowded dock and laid her blunt nose cleanly between the piers of the
lock. She was watching the brass-buttoned chief mate lording it on
the fo'c'sle head, as he passed the lines to haul into the lock.

Captain Price was watching him, too. He saw him smiling and talking
over the rail to the girl.

"Slack off that spring," he roared suddenly, as they began to let the
ship down to the sea level; and the mate jumped for the coil on the
bitts.

"Keep your eyes about you, for'ard there," ordered the Captain
tersely.

"Aye, aye, sir," sang out the mate cheerfully.

The mud pilot, beside the Captain on the bridge, grinned agreeably.

"Arthur's got an eye in his head, indeed," he remarked, and lifted
his cap to Minnie.

The Captain snorted, and gave his whole attention to hauling