rs. Calvert asked:

"For whom are we still waiting, child? Why don't we go aboard and
start?"

"For dear old Cap'n Jack! He's coming now, this minute."

All eyes followed hers and beheld an old man approaching. Even at
that distance his wrinkled face was so shining with happiness and
good nature that they smiled too. He wore a very faded blue uniform
made dazzlingly bright by scores of very new brass buttons. His white
hair and beard had been closely trimmed, and the discarded cap of a
street-car conductor crowned his proudly held head. The cap was
adorned in rather shaky letters of gilt: "Water Lily. Skipper."

Though he limped upon crutches he gave these supports an airy
flourish between steps, as if he scarcely needed them but carried
them for ornaments. Nobody knew him, except Dorothy; not even Ephraim
recognizing in this almost dapper stranger the ragged vagrant he had
once seen on a street car.

But Dorothy knew and ran to meet him--"last but not least of all our
company, good Cap'n Jack, Skipper of the Water Lily."

Then she brought him to Aunt Betty and formally presented him,
expressing by nods and smiles that she would "explain him" later on.
Afterward, each and all were introduced to "our Captain," at whom some
stared rather rudely, Aurora even declining to acknowledge the
presentation.

"Captain Hurry, we're ready to embark. Is that the truly nautical way
to speak? Because, you know, we long to be real sailors on this cruise
and talk real sailor-talk. We cease to be 'land lubbers' from this
instant. Kind Captain, lead ahead!" cried Dorothy, in a very gale of
high spirits and running to help Aunt Betty on the way.

But there was no hurry about this skipper, except his name. With an
air of vast importance and dignity he stalked to the end of the pier
and scanned the face of the water, sluggishly moving to and fro. Then
he pulled out a spy glass, somewhat damaged in appearance, and tried
to adjust it to his eye. This was more difficult because the lens was
broken; but the use of it, the old man reckoned, would be imposing on
his untrained crew, and he had expended his last dollar--presented him
by some old cronies--in the purchase of the thing at a junk shop by
the waterside. Indeed, the Captain's motions were so deliberate, and
apparently, senseless, that Aunt Betty lost patience and indignantly
demanded:

"Dorothy, who is this old humbug you've picked up? You quite
forgot--or didn't forget--to men