He waved and climbed up on the rail of the ship, his feet dangling
over, looking supremely happy and pleased with himself. He lit a
cigarette, leaned back against the upward sweep of the rail and
waited.
It took me a little time to get back to the boat and a little more
time than that to get the damn motor started. Vern! "Let's not take
that lousy little twelve horse-power, Sam," he'd said reasonably. "The
twenty-five's more what we need!" And maybe it was, but none of the
motors had been started in most of a decade, and the twenty-five was
just that much harder to start now.