From somewhere, from the hold or the rigging or from under the sea, he brought forth four darkies from the south who strummed guitars and sang ragtime melodies.

More than once during the voyage they were useful.
"Peggy," said Brewster one day, when the sky was particularly clear and things were quiet on deck, "on the whole I prefer this to crossing the North River on a ferry.

I rather like it, don't you ?" "It seems like a dream," she cried, her eyes, bright, her hair blowing in the wind.
"And, Peggy, do you know what I tucked away in a chest down in my cabin?
A lot of books that you like--some from the old garret.

I've saved them to read on rainy days." Peggy did not speak, but the blood began to creep into her face and she looked wistfully across the water.

Then she smiled.
"I didn't know you could save anything," she said, weakly.
"Come now, Peggy, that is too much." "I didn't mean to hurt you.