“Eh? . . .  Oh, yes’m.  If I locked it on the outside I’d have to take the key with me, and I’m such an absent-minded dumb-head, I’d be pretty sure to lose it.  Come on, Babbie.  All aboard!”

CHAPTER IX

The “Araminta,” which was the name of Captain Perez’s power dory—­a name, so the captain invariably explained, “wished onto her” before he bought her—­chugged along steadily if not swiftly.  The course was always in protected water, inside the outer beaches or through the narrow channels between the sand islands, and so there were no waves to contend with and no danger.  Jed, in the course of his varied experience afloat and ashore, had picked up a working knowledge of gasoline engines and, anyhow, as he informed his small passenger, the “Araminta’s” engine didn’t need any expert handling.  “She runs just like some folks’ tongues; just get her started and she’ll clack along all day,” he observed, adding philosophically, “and that’s a good thing—­in an engine.”

“I know whose tongue you’re thinking about, Uncle Jed,” declared Barbara.  “It’s Mr. Gabe Bearse’s.”

Jed was much amused; he actually laughed aloud.  “Gabe and this engine are different in one way, though,” he said.  “It’s within the bounds of human possibility to stop this engine.”

They threaded the last winding channel and came out into the bay.  Across, on the opposite shore, the new sheds and lumber piles of what was to be the aviation camp loomed raw and yellow in the sunlight.  A brisk breeze ruffled the blue water and the pines on the hilltops shook their heads and shrugged their green shoulders.  The “Araminta” chugged across the bay, rising and falling ever so little on the miniature rollers.

“What shall we do, Uncle Jed?” asked Barbara.  “Shall we go to see the camp or shall we have our chowder and luncheon first and then go?”

Jed took out his watch, shook it and held it to his ear—­a precautionary process rendered necessary because of his habit of forgetting to wind it—­then after a look at the dial, announced that, as it was only half-past ten, perhaps they had better go to the camp first.

“You see,” he observed, “if we eat now we shan’t hardly know whether we’re late to breakfast or early to dinner.”

Barbara was surprised.

“Why, Uncle Jed!” she exclaimed, “I had breakfast ever so long ago!  Didn’t you?”

“I had it about the same time you did, I cal’late.  But my appetite’s older than yours and it don’t take so much exercise; I guess that’s the difference.  We’ll eat pretty soon.  Let’s go and look the place over first.”

They landed in a little cove on the beach adjoining the Government reservation.  Jed declared it a good place to make a fire, as it was sheltered from the wind.  He anchored the boat at the edge of the channel and then, pulling up the tops of his long-legged rubber boots, carried his passenger ashore.  Another trip or two landed the kettle, the materials for the chowder and the lunch baskets.  Jed looked at the heap on the beach and then off at the boat.