Then the boatman did a strangely considerate thing. He turned his back and pretended to be doing something to the engine, while Miss Chalmers slipped down from the trunks and shook her skirt about her ankles. She made a mental note of it.
"Where does your gas-line run?" she asked briskly.
"Oh, the pipe that connects the tank with the engine!" she cried in exasperation. "Don’t you know _anything_?"
"I’m learning," he said. "It runs along under the gunwale on the port side, I think. I never paid much attention, but—"
"Hold the lantern here," she ordered, now on her hands and knees, with her head poked under the gunwale.
He moved the lantern as she directed, while Miss Chalmers explored the gas-line, beginning at the carbureter.
Presently they arrived at an obstacle in the shape of the passenger’s baggage.
He yanked the rescued bag from its place of safety, and she craned her head into the opening. A few seconds later she withdrew it and bestowed upon the boatman a look of unutterable contempt.
He obeyed. Miss Chalmers also poked her head in, so that wisps of her brown hair brushed his unshaven cheeks.
"Now, do you see that little handle there?" she inquired.
"Well, it’s the cut-off in the gas-line."
"Never noticed it before," he commented blandly.
"And it’s cut off now," continued Miss Chalmers.
A gentle swell rocked the boat, and their heads bobbed together. She paid no attention.
"You cut it off when you jammed my grip under there," she said tersely.
"There! Now I’ve turned it on again. The idea is that a gasoline-engine always runs better when supplied with gas. Now spin that fly-wheel!"
The boatman went aft and obeyed. The engine started joyfully. The launch moved. Miss Chalmers resumed her seat and surveyed her costume by the yellow light of the lantern.
"Now you take me to Witherbee’s Island as quickly as you know how—if you do know," she observed.
The boatman made no answer. When the launch had obtained headway he altered the course, and presently they were passing through a series of narrow channels, between darkened islands. He seemed to know where he was going, but Miss Chalmers had no confidence in him. She was merely relieved to observe that they were going somewhere. Presently they headed in toward a wooded island that was dark, save for a tiny light that flickered at the water’s edge. As they neared the shore the boatman made his first remark since the engine had resumed wheezing.
