By this time Vee and Mabel appears, and of course Mabel wants to know
what's the matter.

"I'm sure I can't tell," says Payne, sighin' hopeless.

"Wirin' all right, is it?" says I, climbin' in and lookin' scientific.
And--would you believe it?--I only paws around a minute or so before I
finds a loose magneto connection, hooks it up proper, and remarks
casual, "Now let's try her."

Pur-r-r-r-r! Off she goes. "There!" exclaims Mabel. "I shall never
go out again unless William is along. He's so handy!"

Say, she stuck to it. Four days I was chief engineer of the
Vixen--and, take it from me, they was perfectly good days. No more
fog. No rain. Just shoolin' around in fair weather, makin' excursions
here and there, with Vee trippin' down to the dock every day in a
fresher and newer yachtin' costume, and lookin' pinker and sweeter
every trip.

Course, as regards a certain other party, it was a case of artistic
dodgin' for me between times. You got to admit, though, that it wa'n't
a fair test for Aunty. I had her off her guard. Might have been
diff'rent too, if she'd cared for motorboatin'. So maybe I got
careless. I remember once passin' Aunty right in the path, as I'm
luggin' some things up to the house, and all I does is to hoist the
basket up on my shoulder between me and her and push right along.

Then here the last morning just as we got under way for a run to