A chorus of “Ohs!” greeted the announcement.  “Please, please tell us, oh, do,” they begged, but the visitor shook his head.

“I think, Mr. McCarthy, that I had better tell them if you do not wish to.  They will be too much upset otherwise,” said the Chief Guardian.  “Have I your permission?”

He nodded.

“As you wish.  They’ve got me so flustered that I couldn’t say another word to them.”

“Very good.  Listen, girls, and I will tell you,” said the Chief Guardian.

CHAPTER XVII

WHEN THEIR SHIP CAME IN

There was no need to further impose silence on the Camp Girls.  Eager-eyed, they leaned forward, gazing straight at the smiling woman at the head of the table.

“I wanted Mr. McCarthy to tell you.  However, as he refuses, I shall do so.  You are to have a boat for the rest of the summer.  The boat is the gift of Mr. McCarthy to the Meadow-Brook Girls directly, and to the rest of you indirectly.”

“What kind of a boat ith it?” piped Tommy.

“A sailboat,” answered the visitor.  “I have appointed Miss Burrell as the commodore, though she doesn’t know it.  I understand she did very well as the captain of the ‘Red Rover’ last summer.  Now we’ll give her a trial on salt water.  You will look to her for your orders and permission to go out, and I imagine you won’t have any cause to complain of her treatment of you, eh, Harriet?”

“O Mr. McCarthy! you embarrass me.  But tell us about the boat,” answered Harriet laughingly.

“It’s just a little old sailboat, that’s all—­one I picked up at Portsmouth; but even though she’s a tub, she is perfectly safe and you may go as far as you wish with her, always first consulting with the captain and the commodore.”

“Oh, is there to be a captain?  Am I to be the captain?” questioned Jane mischievously.

“My grathiouth, I hope not,” exclaimed Grace.

“No.  The captain owns this particular boat, and he will be wholly in charge of the actual operation of it, acting upon the orders of the commodore as to who is to go and when and where.  Now it’s all out and I’m glad of it.  I—­”

Mr. McCarthy’s further words were unheard because of the cheer given by the Camp Girls, in which Mrs. Livingston and the guardians joined enthusiastically, much to the discomfiture of the guest, who half rose as though to run away.  Evidently thinking better of it, he settled back in his seat and wiped his forehead.

Jane got up, and, running to her father, threw a pair of impulsive arms about his neck.

“Isn’t he the darling Dad, though, girls?”

“He is,” agreed the Chief Guardian.

“You won’t think tho after we have all gone and drowned ourthelveth from thith—­from the—­what ith the name of the thhip on which we are going to thail the thalt water?”

“Her name is ‘The Sister Sue,’” replied Mr. McCarthy.