First Lessons in Life 69 



back all right. I said nothing and let him 

 go. An hour later, I came out of the cabin 

 and went ashore in the naphtha tender for 

 supplies. The wind was blowing a spanking 

 breeze and the tide was running with the 

 wind like a mill-race. I saw my omnipotent 

 young navigator off to the leeward a mile, 

 anchored, and a distress signal flying. I ran 

 the launch within a quarter of a mile of him, 

 but paid no attention to his frantic gestures 

 for help. I passed on to the shore and an 

 hour later returned. Again I passed him 

 waving his arms and bellowing for a tow. 

 When I got back to the yacht, I took the 

 megaphone and asked him why he didn't 

 come in to dinner. The wind was against 

 him and no words from him, of course, could 

 be heard, but the rapidity of his pantomime 

 explanation of the impossibility of lifting his 

 anchor in the terrible tide or making head- 

 way against it, would have been luminous to 

 a wooden Indian. I allowed him to think 



