But as for old lady Granby—­whew!  She got redder’n she was afore, which was a miracle, pretty nigh.  She couldn’t speak for a minute—­ just cackled like a hen.  Then she busts out with:  “How dare you!” and flounces out of that room like a hurricane.  And it was still as could be for a minute, and then two or three of the girls begun to squeal and giggle behind their handkerchiefs.

Jonadab and me went away, too.  We didn’t flounce any to speak of.  I guess a “sneak” would come nearer to telling how we quit.  I see the cap’n heading for the stairs and I fell into his wake.  Nobody said good-night, and we didn’t wait to give ’em a chance.

’Course we knew we’d put our foot in it somewheres, but we didn’t see just how.  Even then we wa’n’t really onto Phil’s game.  You see, when a green city chap comes to the Old Home House—­and the land knows there’s freaks enough do come—­we always try to make things pleasant for him, and the last thing we’d think of was making him a show afore folks.  So we couldn’t b’lieve even now ’twas done a-purpose.  But we was suspicious, a little.

“Barzilla,” says Jonadab, getting ready to turn in, “’tain’t possible that that feller with the sprained last name is having fun with us, is it?”

“Jonadab,” says I, “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

And we wondered for an hour, and finally decided to wait a while and say nothing till we could ask Ebenezer.  And the next morning one of the stewards comes up to our room with some coffee and grub, and says that Mr. Catesby-Stuart requested the pleasure of our comp’ny on a afore-breakfast ice-boat sail, and would meet us at the pier in half an hour.  They didn’t have breakfast at Ebenezer’s till pretty close to dinner time, eleven o’clock, so we had time enough for quite a trip.

Phil and the ice-boat met us on time.  I s’pose it ’twas style, but, if I hadn’t known I’d have swore he’d run short of duds and had dressed up in the bed-clothes.  I felt of his coat when he wa’n’t noticing, and if it wa’n’t made out of a blanket then I never slept under one.  And it made me think of my granddad to see what he had on his head—­a reg’lar nightcap, tassel and all.  Phil said he was sorry we turned in so early the night afore.  Said he’d planned to entertain us all the evening.  We didn’t hurrah much at this—­being suspicious, as I said—­and he changed the subject to ice-boats.

That ice-boat was a bird.  I cal’lated to know a boat when I sighted one, but a flat-iron on skates was something bran-new.  I didn’t think much of it, and I could see that Jonadab didn’t neither.

But in about three shakes of a lamb’s tail I was ready to take it all back and say I never said it.  I done enough praying in the next half hour to square up for every Friday night meeting I’d missed sence I was a boy.  Phil got sail onto her, and we moved out kind of slow.

“Now, then,” says he, “we’ll take a little jaunt up the river.  ’Course this isn’t like one of your Cape Cod cats, but still—­”