owns a third? That's it, eh?' And
now it's Minnie Arkell a third. Where does Withrow come in? And did
you hear her when she invited Maurice to the time they're going to
have on that same steam-yacht to-morrow night?--that was when she
whispered to him at the gangway, when we were leaving. She tried to
get him to promise to come, and at last he said he would if he was in
the harbor. 'Then be sure to be in the harbor--you're skipper and can
do as you please. Do come,' she said at the last, good and loud, 'and
tell them how to sail a vessel in heavy weather. They only play at it,
so do come and tell them.' And then in a low voice--'But I want you to
come for yourself.' That's what she says--'For yourself,' she
says--in a whisper almost. 'Take a run into the harbor to-morrow night
if you can, Maurice,' she says. O Lord, women--women--they don't know
a thing--no," and Clancy turned in.

XX

THE SKIPPER PUTS FOR HOME

We were out of Newport Harbor before daybreak of next morning, and
cruised inside Block Island all that day. We all thought the skipper
would be in to Newport that night--it was no more than a two hours'
run the way the wind was--and we waited.

The test came after supper. We had supper as usual, at three o'clock.
Breakfast at four, dinner at ten, supper at three--mug-ups before and
after and in between. Along about four o'clock the skipper, standing
on the break, stood looking back toward where Newport lay. Had we
turned then we'd have been in nicely by dark. It was a fine
afternoon--the finest kind of an afternoon--a clear blue sky, and a
smooth blue sea with the surface just rippling beautifully. All fire
was the sun and the sails of every vessel in sight looked white as
could be. Several yachts passed us--steam and sail--all bright and
handsome and all bound into Newport, and the skipper's eyes rested
long on them--on one of them particularly with music aboard.

The skipper looked back a long time--looked back, and looked back. He
began walking the quarter--back and forth, back and forth, back and
forth. The sun got lower and lower, the sea lost some of its blue, and
the air grew fresher, and still he kept looking back.

"It'll be a grand sunset to-night, Tommie."

"The finest kind. But one thing wrong with it."

"What's that?"

"We're not seeing it astern of us."

The skipper stopped. "Astern? That's so, too--it _is_ a fine westerly,
isn't it?"

Clancy said nothing, only leaned agains