AN AFTERNOON AFLOAT
Mr. Pennimore was awaiting them on the broad, red-tiled terrace outside
the library. He had a pleasant smile and a firm hand-clasp for the
visitor.
“Well, Dan, I’m glad to see you,” he said. “You don’t look as though
you had been damaged much by your adventure. Where do you get that
color in your cheeks? I wish my boy looked as healthy as you do.” He
glanced from one face to the other and shook his head. “Gerald looks
like a city boy beside you. What’s the secret, Dan?”
“Just being out of doors a lot, sir, I guess,” was the reply.
“But so is Gerald,” said Mr. Pennimore.
“Yes, but he doesn’t get the exercise I do,” Dan laughed. “He needs to
play football and get his blood circulating.”
“Circulating out through his nose?” asked Mr. Pennimore dryly.
“Oh, we don’t get hurt much, sir. And, anyway, we don’t mind a few
knocks. It makes it more fun.”
“Really. Well, everyone to his taste! But I don’t think Gerald would
take kindly to having his teeth knocked out or--”
“Yes, I would, sir!” cried Gerald eagerly. “I’d like it!”
Mr. Pennimore’s eyebrows were lifted in comic surprise.
“Well, this is something new,” he said. “This must be your influence,
Dan. Or was it the football game you witnessed yesterday, Gerald?”
“Neither, sir. But I’d like to play football and things like other
fellows, father. Nothing ever happens to me,” he added dolefully.
“Something pretty nearly happened to you last week,” replied his
father gravely. “I suppose that, on the whole, football is fairly mild
compared to being burned up! So you’d like to play football, son? Well,
here’s Dan. Can’t he and you have a game together sometimes?”
“Two fellows can’t play football!” said Gerald scathingly.
“Oh, can’t they? No, I suppose not--not a regular game; but I should
think you could run and kick the ball around and--er--throw each other
down.”
“Oh, there’s no fun in that,” answered Gerald. “I want to play real
football, sir.”
“Well, go ahead,” said Mr. Pennimore gravely. “Say what you want to,
son.”
But Gerald hesitated. He shot an entreating glance at Dan, and, finding
no assistance forthcoming from that quarter, took the plunge.
“I want to go to school, father! And--and I’m going, too!”
“Hold on, Gerald! You mean that you’re going if I am willing that you
should, don’t you?”
There was a moment of rebellion and then Gerald nodded and took his
father’s hand contritely. Mr. Pennimore put his arm over the boy’s
shoulders and drew him against him.
“That’s better, son,” he said kindly. “We don’t allow insubordination
on this ship, do we?” He turned and looked closely at Dan who had
perched himself on the balustrade. The look said: “This is your doing,
my friend,” and Dan returned it steadily.
“Let’s talk this over,” said Mr. Pennimore. “Bring out some chairs,
Gerald.” Gerald disappeared through the nearest door and came back with
two willow chairs. Dan helped him through the door with them.
“Here’s yours, sir,” said Gerald. “And here’s yours, Vinton.” Then
he tossed a couple of cushions onto the tiles and dropped onto them
cross-legged. “And here’s mine,” he laughed.
“Now,” said Mr. Pennimore. “What is this? A conspiracy?” He was looking
at Dan rather than his son and Dan answered.
“No, sir, not exactly. Gerald said he wanted to go to school and
I asked him why he didn’t come to Yardley. I’d like him to, Mr.
Pennimore. I thought that maybe if he entered next year he and I could
get a room together, that is, sir, if you didn’t mind.”
“Yardley, eh?” mused Mr. Pennimore. “Well, Yardley’s a good school from
all I hear, and I’ve done one or two things for it and so have a little
interest in it. But do you think that this boy of mine would get on all
right at a boarding-school, Dan? You know he isn’t what you’d call a
vigorous boy, nor is he very--what shall I say?--self-depending.”
“He doesn’t seem to be weak, sir,” answered Dan. “He just needs filling
out. He’s too thin.” Mr. Pennimore smiled. Gerald looked anxiously from
one to the other.
“You think that life at Yardley Hall would fill him out, do you?” Mr.
Pennimore asked.
“Yes, sir,” answered Dan stoutly. “I feel sure it would. A chap lives
pretty regularly and gets the right sort of things to eat and has lots
of good exercise. Don’t you think. I’m right, sir?”
“Bless us, you mustn’t ask me!” laughed Mr. Pennimore. “I’m not going
to help you make out your case, Dan; I’m for the defense! But how about
the rest of it? Do you think Gerald could stand the--the régime?”
Dan wasn’t quite certain about that word, but risked it and replied
that he thought he could.
“But a boy is thrown on his own resources a good deal at boarding-school,
isn’t he, Dan?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And do you think that Gerald could look out for himself? Think he
could keep out of mischief, do you?”
“I don’t see why not, sir. Besides, he’s got to--”
“Well, go on,” prompted Mr. Pennimore as Dan stopped.
“I meant he’d have to learn to look after himself sometime, sir, and I
don’t see why he mightn’t just as well learn now.”
“Pshaw,” exclaimed Gerald disgustedly, “anyone would think I was a
regular baby!”
“And--and I’d help him all I could, sir,” added Dan earnestly.
“Thank you,” responded Mr. Pennimore. “I think you would. And I don’t
mind saying that the fact of your being there with Gerald would weigh a
good deal with me. But I’ll have to think this over, boys. There’s lots
of time before next September, lots of time. We’ll talk about it again.
What do you say, Gerald?”
“All right, sir.” But it was plain that Gerald wasn’t in favor of
postponing action on his motion. Mr. Pennimore smiled.
“And you, Dan?” he asked.
“It’s just as you say, sir. It isn’t necessary to decide now, I guess.
And, besides, I’ll have more time to persuade you!”
“Oh, so I’m to be put under pressure, am I?” asked Mr. Pennimore with a
twinkle in his eye. Dan nodded vigorously.
“Yes, sir, I give you fair warning, you see. I’m going to get Gerald to
Yardley if it can be done!”
“I salute my adversary,” laughed Mr. Pennimore. “Now shall we call a
truce and take a walk down to the beach?”
“I want Dan--” Gerald pulled himself up and colored.
Mr. Pennimore glanced at Dan and their eyes met. Each smiled a little.
“I guess if you’re going to room together next year,” said the former,
“there’s no harm in learning each other’s first names, eh, Dan?”
“No, sir.”
“I want him to see the yacht, sir,” went on Gerald hurriedly. “Couldn’t
we go aboard?”
“Now?” asked his father. “Why not take a sail after luncheon? I guess
Dan would like that better than just looking over the boat. Wouldn’t
you?”
“Yes, sir, very much,” replied Dan eagerly. “I--I’ve never been on a
yacht.”
“Oh, glory!” shouted Gerald. “Think of that! We’ll have a dandy time,
won’t we, father?”
“Of course we will,” answered Mr. Pennimore. “We’ll take Dan out and
get him seasick. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”
Gerald laughed enjoyably, but Dan looked a little doubtful.
“Do you think I’ll be seasick?” he asked anxiously. But Mr. Pennimore
assured him that he wouldn’t as the water was perfectly calm and the
_Princess_ was a pretty big boat. They walked down to the pier. The
big white steam yacht was lying bow-to a little distance away and Dan
studied her with a new interest. He had never thought to set foot on
her and he was so excited over the prospect that he hardly knew what
was set before him when, half an hour later, they were seated at the
table in the big sun-bathed dining room.
“By the way,” said Mr. Pennimore in the course of luncheon, “I’ve
been inquiring about that railroad, Dan. I’ll have a full report on
it to-morrow or Tuesday and I’ll let you know the next time I see you
what can be done. I think, though, that I shall be able to persuade the
directors that a new survey taking in--what’s the name of that place?”
“Graystone, sir?”
“Yes, Graystone. That a new survey taking in Graystone will be
advisable.”
“Thank you,” murmured Dan. “I wish you wouldn’t trouble about it,
though, Mr. Pennimore. It--it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but it does. I--er--recall your father now, Dan; we had some
correspondence a few years ago. He is a very admirable man, my boy, and
if I can do him a small favor I shall be glad to, especially since it
will indirectly bring satisfaction to you.”
Then Gerald cut in and demanded to know what they were talking about
and explanations followed.
Dan isn’t likely to forget that Sunday afternoon for a good while.
At three they were taken aboard the _Princess_ in a little gasoline
tender that was a marvel of mahogany and gleaming brass, and from the
time he reached the top of the steps and set foot on the immaculate
deck until the short cruise was over and the anchor chain was once more
roaring through the hawsehole he was in a constant state of wonderment
and delight. And Gerald enjoyed it all even more. It wasn’t often he
had the fun of showing off the yacht to anyone, and here was a person
who had never even seen such a craft save at a distance. He lugged Dan
tirelessly from one end of the long deck to the other, down into the
saloon, forward to the forecastle and the galley to the engine room, up
to the wheel-house and back to the chart-room and the state-rooms and
all the other places. He opened cupboards and exhibited conveniences
until Dan became convinced that the only necessity or luxury not
provided on board the _Princess_ was a football field!
Gerald overhauled the flag-locker for Dan’s amusement, played on the
pianola, started the talking machine, pulled books from the cases,
upset chemicals in the little dark-room, explained the purpose of
this thing and that until Dan’s head was in a whirl. And all the time
Dan was begrudging every moment he spent away from the deck. At last,
when Fisher’s Island was abreast of them, the boys returned to Mr.
Pennimore who had long since yielded the duties of host to Gerald and
was seated on the rear deck with a magazine in hand. Dan watched the
white wake fascinatedly and could scarcely be made to show a proper
interest in the points along shore. The wind was blowing keen and crisp
from the north and the boys had donned extra coats and laid aside their
caps. The _Princess_ cut her way through the green water without the
least bit of fuss and the motion was almost imperceptible. But on the
homeward course the yacht began to lift her heels a little and dip her
white nose into the swells. The boys went forward and leaning over
the rail, watched the waves curl and swish past the bow. For awhile
Dan feared that he was going to be ill. It wasn’t the prospect of
physical discomfort that alarmed him, but like most novices he thought
sea-sickness a disgrace and didn’t want his hosts to be ashamed of
him. But the first qualms soon passed off and by the time the tower
of Oxford Hall was once more in sight at the crest of the hill he was
convinced that he was a born sailor!
At five o’clock the big car rolled up to the door and for the better
part of an hour Dan sat between Mr. Pennimore and Gerald and was
whisked magically along twilighted country roads until he had lost
all sense of location. Not that that bothered him any. He was content
to sit there, warm and snug under the fur robes, and feel the wind in
his face and watch the trees and houses, fields and hillsides roll
unceasingly by. Too soon it was all over and he was saying good-night
and thanking his hosts on the steps of Clarke, while a group of boys
looked curiously and enviously across from the porch of Whitson.
“I’m coming to see you Saturday,” called Gerald as the big car turned
around. “Don’t forget!”
“I won’t! And I’ll be over Tuesday if I possibly can. I’ll telephone
you, Gerald! Good-night! Good-night, Mr. Pennimore! I had a swell time,
sir!”
“Good-night, my boy. Come and see us. Home, Higgins.”
_Chug, chug, chug!_ said the car and then the red light at the rear
grew smaller and smaller and dimmer and dimmer as the car dropped down
the long hill in the darkness. Dan gave a deep sigh of mingled pleasure
and regret and climbed the stairs.