"Plenty of boats, I should say," remarked Ford, as he surveyed the
little "landing" and its vicinity with the air of a man who had a few
fleets of his own. "All sorts. Any of 'em fast?"

"Not many," said Dab. "The row-boats, big and little, have to be built
so they will stand pretty rough water."

"How are the sail-boats?"

"Same thing. There's Ham Morris's yacht."

"That? Why, she's as big as any in the lot."

"Bigger; but she don't show it."

"Can't we take a cruise in her?" asked Ford.

"Any time. Ham lets me use her whenever I like. She's fast enough, but
she's built so she'll stand 'most any thing. Safe as a house if she's
handled right."

"Handled!"

Ford Foster's expression of face would have done honor to the Secretary
of the Navy, or the Chairman of the Naval Affairs Committee in Congress,
or any other perfect seaman, Noah included. It seemed to say,--

"As if any boat could be otherwise than well sailed, with me on board!"

Dabney, however, even while he was talking, had been hauling in from its