"It costs money to send messages," said the wiser Russ.

"Oh! Does it?" asked his sister.

"I am afraid it does," replied the operator, laughing. "You had better
ask Mr. Bunker about sending a message to your aunt, after all. Some
messages we do not charge for. But the rules demand that all private
messages must be paid for in advance."

"Well, then, I guess we'd better write a letter to Aunt Jo," said Rose,
who was practical, after all. "That won't cost anything but a two cent
stamp."

"Oh, my!" laughed Russ. "Going to mail it in the ocean?"

"We'll mail it when we get to Charleston," said Rose cheerfully. "I
guess Aunt Jo won't mind."

Just at this moment there seemed to be some excitement on the deck up
forward. Two officers who stood on what the children had learned was
called the quarter were talking excitedly to one of the lookout men.
They were pointing ahead, and one of the officers put a double-barreled
glass to his eyes and stared ahead.

The operator came to the doorway of his cabin and looked forward, too.
He could see over the bulwarks and marked what had caused the
excitement.

"Ah-ha!" he said. "Come up here, little folks, and you can see it too."