"They'll have her out of that in less'n a week," said Ford to Frank. "My
father'll know just what to do about your baggage, and so forth."
There were endless questions to be asked and answered on both sides; but
at last Dab yawned a very sleepy yawn, and said, "Ford, you've had your
nap. Wake up Dick, there, and let him take his turn at the tiller. The
sea's as smooth as a lake, and I believe I'll go to sleep for an hour or
so. You and Frank can keep watch while Dick steers: he's a good
steerer."
Whatever Dab said was "orders" now on board "The Swallow;" and Ford's
only reply was,--
"If you haven't earned a good nap, then nobody has."
Dick, too, responded promptly and cheerfully; and in five minutes more
the patient and skilful young "captain" was sleeping like a top.
"Look at him," said Ford Foster to Frank Harley. "I don't know what he's
made of. He's been at that tiller for twenty-three hours by the watch,
in all sorts of weather, and never budged."
"They don't make that kind of boy in India," replied Frank.
"He's de bes' feller you ebber seen," added Dick Lee. "I's jes' proud ob
him, I is!"
Smoothly and swiftly and safely "The Swallow" was bearing her precious
cargo across the summer sea; but the morning had brought no comfort to
the two homes at the head of the inlet, or the humble cabin in the
village.
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