"I? 0f course not," she responded.

"Personally, I don't want to mix into their social game," Charliedrawled. "0r at least, I don't propose to make any tentative advances.The women put on lots of side, they say. If they want to hunt us up andcultivate you, all right. But I've got too much to do to butt intosociety. Anyway, I didn't want to run up against any critical femaleslooking like I do right now."

Stella smiled.

"Under certain circumstances, appearances do count then, in thiscountry," she remarked. "Has your Mr. Abbey got a young and be-yutifulsister?"

"He has, but that's got nothing to do with it," Charlie retorted."Paul's all right himself. But their gait isn't mine--not yet. Here, youtake the wheel a minute. I want to smoke. I don't suppose you everhelmed a forty-footer, but you'll never learn youthfuler."

She took the wheel and Charlie stood by, directing her. In twentyminutes they were out where the run of the sea from the south had a fairsweep. The wind was whistling now. All the roughened surface was spottedwith blackcaps. The _Chickamin_ would hang on the crest of a wave andshoot forward like a racer, her wheel humming, and again the rollerwould run out from under her, and she would labor heavily in the trough.

It began to grow insufferably scorching in the pilot home. The wind drovewith them, pressing the heat from the boiler and fire box into theforward portion of the boat, where Stella stood at the wheel. There werepuffs of smoke when Davis opened the fire box to ply it with fuel. Allthe sour smells that rose from an unclean bilge eddied about them. Theheat and the smell and the surging motion began to nauseate Stella.

"I must get outside where I can breathe," she gasped, at length. "It'ssuffocating. I don't see how you stand it."